Reckless Abandon
by FredFanatic
Summary: Fred, George and Juliet return to Hogwarts for their final year. Facing threats the wizarding world hasn't seen in years, they must learn to stand together. As the twins chase their dreams, Juliet struggles to discover where her future lies. PART 3 of 3
1. Prologue

**A/N:** You've reached Part III of my Fred Weasley/Juliet Christie story. I've been writing this story for nearly five years now, so I was quite young when I started. My writing has improved immensely since I first began writing _Strange Things Come in Threes_ and I applaud everyone for sticking with me through all of this time. I can't stand to even look at _Strange Things_ now, as I feel the writing is terrible in comparison to Part II (_And the Plot Thickens_). I hope I'll continue to grow and improve as a writer.

I hope any new readers will cut me some slack with the first part of my story, as it was my first try at writing…

AND I hope all of you "old" readers left me a review on the last chapter of _And the Plot Thickens_ before you came looking for this.

Thanks for all the support everyone!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- PROLOGUE ---**

_Juliet Christie_

I don't know how I made it through that summer. I was frightened…I was sad…and worst of all, I was alone. Not a night passed by where I didn't ponder about the death of Cedric Diggory, and although I was past the stage of sobbing myself to sleep, there were still nights when I woke up from nightmares of running to catch him on the way to the Triwizard Cup. On those mornings I was covered in cold sweat, and the terrors of that horrid day echoed within me with each hour that passed for the remainder of the day.

I didn't see anyone that summer, aside from my parents. Fred and George seemed to have fallen off of the face of the earth. I sent them a few letters, but when they wrote back it was always with a few friendly words and some bizarre mention about how they weren't at the Burrow. I tried asking Mum about it, but she seemed keen on keeping me out of the loop. It was frustrating.

Katie Bell wrote to me on several occasions. I asked her about Fred and George, hoping she knew where they were staying…if they weren't at the Burrow that meant I couldn't visit. Unfortunately, she hadn't had any idea what they were talking about either. That was at least mildly comforting, as I wasn't the only one being left out.

None of us heard from Alicia that summer, which we all found a bit odd. Katie wrote saying she hadn't heard a word from her in weeks, and strangely, neither had George. I found that extraordinarily strange. They were dating, and it wasn't like Alicia to fail to contact any of her friends…let alone George.

Thus, I wasn't really certain about what was going on with the others, despite the letters. Fred and George kept referring to some _secret_ the adults were keeping from them. I was curious, but every time I asked they told me _it wasn't safe_, and I'd have to wait to speak to them in person. I was confused and frustrated, but no amount of persuasion could force them into giving me any more information in their letters.

Fortunately, I stumbled across the answer myself without needing to so much as leave my home.

On one particularly dark and cold night—one of those nights when nightmares about the day of Cedric's death kept me wide awake and frightened—I tip-toed down the stairs of my house to get a glass of water. My mouth was swollen and dry, and my hands were shaking from the nightmares. I was feeling a little light-headed and opted to go down and try to make myself well again. I hoped I wouldn't wake my parents, but by the time I had reached the bottom of the stairs I realized they were already awake.

They were in the kitchen bickering. I lingered in the hallway to eavesdrop.

"Margaret, there's no need to get so worked up about this!" My father was saying. "Dumbledore is brilliant. He knows what he's doing. There's no sense in waiting around here for _You-Know-Who_ to come back to power. We might as well be doing something useful."

"But joining the Order?" my mother said, and I scrunched up my face in confusion. _The Order_? "Kirk, do you really think we should be jumping in to something like that? We don't even know for sure—"

"Don't know for sure?!" Dad's voice was disbelieving. "Marge, Juliet was there! Your daughter saw those boys get taken. You-Know-Who was behind it, you must know that!"

"I'm just being realistic," Mum defended. "We can't possibly know for sure what happened, because we weren't there."

"You don't believe your own daughter?" Dad asked.

I stared dumbly at the wall in front of me, uncertain of how to feel. They were arguing over _me_. They were fighting about the day You-Know-Who returned…the day Cedric died. I felt my hands shaking harder as my mind replayed my nightmare in my head.

I pushed it back and tried to listen.

"She wasn't there either," Mum said. "She didn't see what happened to those boys."

I felt my mouth drop open. My mother…my own bloody _mother_ didn't believe me. I had told them what I saw happen the very day I returned home from Hogwarts. Mum had taken me into my arms to consol me…and yet, she hadn't believed a word of it! She thought I was lying! My hands were trembling again, but this time in anger and hurt.

"What else could have happened, Marge?!" Dad asked. "You think Harry Potter planted the Portkey and killed that poor Cedric all on his own, do you?"

"That's not what I'm saying—"

"Then what are you saying?!" Dad roared. "Dumbledore wouldn't just jump to a conclusion without evidence, Margaret. He knows You-Know-Who's back. You think this is all just some stupid joke? Then what happened to Cedric Diggory, tell me."

"I don't know, Kirk!" Mum screeched. "Maybe it was an accident. Maybe poor Harry didn't want to face the fact that he caused the poor boy's death…maybe he made the whole thing up!"

"He must have an excellent imagination, then," Dad said sarcastically. "And Juliet? She's in on the lie too, is she?"

I felt my breath catch in my throat and I fought back the fury and resentment building up inside of me. How could Mum doubt me like that? How could she think for even a second that I would lie about Cedric's death? The thought was infuriating. Had she not known how important Cedric Diggory had been to me? I nearly launched myself into the kitchen to join the argument right then, but I held myself back, intent on hearing what else was going to be said.

"Have you taken a look at her lately?" Mum asked. "She's torn apart, Kirk. She's broken. A person like that…they'd do anything to ease the pain of what happened. Juliet thinks of Harry as a brother. If she didn't want to believe he caused this, she'd think up another explanation…go along with—"

"Would you listen to yourself?!" Dad yelled. "You honestly think Juliet is capable of that? Our own daughter? She loved that boy, Margaret. She wouldn't lie about his death! If it _had_ been Harry, she would have said so!"

"Oh really? You think she wouldn't lie to cover for her friends, Kirk? What about Fred Weasley? What if _he _had killed Cedric? Do you think she wouldn't have lied for _him_?"

My dad scoffed, and I felt my mouth dropping open in shock and horror.

"Not our daughter. She would never do that," he said, his voice angry and quiet now. "The fact that you can even _think_ such a thing shows just how little you know about her."

"You don't think I know my own daughter?" Mum asked, offended.

"If you honestly believe the rubbish you're spouting now, then no, you don't know her," Dad said.

I heard the clatter of dishes and the angry footsteps of my mother coming my way, and I quickly dodged her, hiding in the darkness behind the kitchen door. She hurried past me with a scowl on her face without taking any notice of me cowering there in the corner.

I listened to her footsteps fade away, heading up the stairs, followed by the slamming of her bedroom door.

I took a deep breath, and without thinking, stepped into the kitchen.

My dad was there, staring out the kitchen window, clutching angrily at the ledge in front of him. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell he was absolutely rigid with anger. I had never seen him in such a state before in my life. It was quite terrifying, but at the same time, it was encouraging.

I knew the world didn't believe Harry Potter. I knew the newspapers were saying awful things about him and his claim about the return of You-Know-Who. I knew the Ministry were trying to play it off like Harry was some kind of attention-seeking prat just out to cause mischief. And although my name was never publicly used—no one officially knew that I had been involved in the disaster in any way—anyone who doubted Harry also doubted me.

My mother doubted me, it seemed, but my father…he believed me.

"Dad?" I said quietly, watching him for any sign of a reaction.

He didn't stir. I wondered if he had even heard me.

"What are you doing up?" he asked. He didn't sound angry, but he couldn't fool me. I knew it was there, underneath the false sense of surprise playing on his voice.

"What is _the Order_?" I asked.

He turned toward me then, knowing immediately I had heard the entire thing.

There was a moment that passed between us where my father seemed to make up his mind about a question that had been plaguing him for Merlin knows how long. His features turned down into one of determination, and when he spoke, his voice was firm and final.

"That's where we're headed," he told me, pausing to study my face. "Go pack your things. Don't wake your mother."


	2. Inner Turmoil

**A/N:** Thanks for all of the reviews and support, guys! I'm glad to hear you all enjoyed the ending of _And the Plot Thickens_, as well as the prologue of this story. I had a hard time getting the ball rolling with this chapter. I'm trying to feel out Juliet's character for this part of the story. She's dealing with some inner demons at the moment, and I'm playing around with how to portray her. Hope the wait wasn't too excruciating.

Read and review, as always.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- CHAPTER ONE ---**

_Inner Turmoil_

_Juliet Christie_

Dad explained everything to me once we had reached the Burrow. I honestly wasn't sure why we were headed there of all places. Fred and George had already informed me that the house was empty. I expressed this concern to my father, but he didn't seem concerned in the slightest.

"What are we doing here?" I questioned, lugging my school trunk out of the fireplace and into the room. It contained everything I needed to go back to Hogwarts…that was a little concerning.

When Dad had told me to pack my things, he said we weren't going to be returning home. The thought had me both mystified and a little scared.

I wasn't going to ask him about it, though. Neither of us seemed at all willing to mention Mum. I knew Dad was furious with her, and I was feeling fairly betrayed. Thus, Dad said nothing about his fight with her, and I pretended not to be upset by what I overheard her say about me. I was sure we'd talk about it later, when other matters weren't so pressing.

"We're meeting Arthur here," Dad said. "I sent him an owl while you were packing your things."

I thrust the rucksack I was carrying on my back onto the floor and scrunched up my face in confusion.

"What? Why are we meeting Mr. Weasley?" I questioned.

Dad was busying himself boiling some water on Mrs. Weasley's stovetop, his back turned toward me.

"We need him to escort us to Headquarters."

"Headquarters?" I said. "Dad, what are you talking about, Headquarters?"

He pulled out two mugs from the cupboard, and I looked around at the darkened room. It was strange being there when the Weasleys weren't home. It was far too quiet. It was eerie, and I didn't care for it.

"Headquarters for the Order of the Pheonix," he explained.

"Right…and what is the _Order of the Pheonix_?"

Dad got tired of waiting for the water to boil and pulled out his wand, jabbing the pot until the kettle squealed. He removed it from the stove and poured out two cups of tea. He handed me one and took a seat down at the kitchen table.

"It's a secret organization founded by Albus Dumbledore against You-Know-Who," he said, sipping at his tea and swearing when it burned his tongue.

I took a seat directly across from him, ignoring the cuss words coming out of his mouth.

"What do they do, exactly?" I questioned curiously.

Dad shook his head. "I can't tell you that."

"What?" I asked. "Why not?"

"Like I said, Juliet, it's a _secret_ organization. Only members are supposed to know what goes on there."

"Well then why do you know what's going on? You're not a member," I pointed out.

"Of course I am," he said, tapping his cup of tea with his wand gently, presumably to cool it down.

"You _are_?"

"Well, I _was_," Dad said, ignoring my obvious surprise. "This isn't a new organization. Dumbledore founded it when You-Know-Who first came to power. When Harry announced You-Know-Who was back, Dumbledore reinstated it straight away."

"So…you _fight_ You-Know-Who?"

My eyes were wide in astonishment. I couldn't believe I had never heard of such an organization. I always assumed the Ministry of Magic would be the ones fighting against You-Know-Who…although I was well-aware of the fact that during the past months the Ministry had turned against Dumbledore. They were widely spreading rumours that he had lost his mind and the claims of You-Know-Who's return were bogus.

"Juliet, I need you to stop asking questions," Dad said firmly. "I can't talk to you about this."

"Well why not, Dad? We're going to Headquarters, aren't we? Doesn't that make _me_ a member?"

"No, it doesn't," Dad said. "You have to be of age…"

"Dad, I _am_ of age, remember? My birthday was in May."

"Right, well, you know what I mean," he said. "You have to be an _adult_."

"Well what if I want to join?" I questioned. "You can't stop me if I'm of age."

"You can't join," Dad assured me, "because you don't know what it's all about. You wouldn't know what you'd be getting yourself into."

I smiled evilly to myself. I had always been good at manipulating my father.

"Well then, shouldn't you _tell_ me so I can make an informed decision?" I pressed.

Dad squinted at me, catching on to where I was headed.

"Juliet, that's not going to work. I can't tell you what the Order is doing," he said firmly.

"Yes you can," I insisted. "I deserve to know. We abandoned Mum to go to this place, so I think I have a right to know what's so important that we've got to leave home for."

I knew I had him there. It may have been low of me to bring Mum's name into it, but I wasn't going to stand by and let my father keep secrets from me. After everything that had happened…after all I had been through…I deserved to know what was going on. Especially since my friends seemed keen on keeping me out of the loop.

Dad rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, and I knew he was seriously considering spilling the secrets to me. I smirked to myself. I had beaten him…and in record time, too.

"If I tell you anything, you have to swear to me you won't speak a word of it to anyone. And I mean _anyone_, Juliet," he said, his voice lowering suddenly with intensity. "Not Fred and George, not Ginny, not Lee Jordan or Katie Bell…_no one_."

"You mean, Fred and George don't already know?" I questioned, surprised.

"Molly thinks they're too young," he explained. "Which by rights makes you too young as well…but you're _my_ daughter, so I suppose I can make my own decision on what you're too young to hear."

I pursed my lips into a firm line. I was suddenly unsure. I wasn't really overly comfortable with keeping secrets from Fred and George. I didn't particularly like it…and I knew they'd be furious with me if they found out I had agreed to such a promise.

"Do you swear you won't breathe a word of this to anyone?" Dad pressed.

I weighed my options. Surely Fred and George would tell me anything they had managed to uncover when I next met up with them…and they certainly would expect the same courtesy from me. Through all the years I had known them we had always done things together…aside from the brief few months during which Fred and I weren't speaking to one another…

I scrunched up my eyebrows in thought. This was no ordinary secret. Whatever the Order of the Phoenix was involved in, it was _big. _I definitely needed to know.

"Juliet? Do you understand?"

I nodded. "Not a word to anyone…I swear."

-------

I have no idea how long I was sleeping for, but I was awoken very suddenly by my dad shaking me awake frantically.

"Juliet! Juliet, wake up!"

I groaned and rolled over, squinting into the darkness at my dad. He was looming over me with wide, anxious eyes.

I sat up from my make-shift bed on the Weasleys' chesterfield.

"Are we leaving?" I asked groggily.

Dad thrust my rucksack toward me and I caught it, despite my exhaustion. I threw the blanket off of me and stood up, noticing Mr. Weasley lingering in the kitchen speaking very quickly to my father.

"Yes, we're leaving," Dad confirmed, turning toward Mr. Weasley.

"That's everything, then?" Mr. Weasley asked, holding onto the handle of my trunk firmly.

"That's everything," Dad confirmed.

"Good, we'd better get a move on."

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked, shouldering my bag and pushing my dishevelled hair out of my face.

"We are Apparating," Mr. Weasley said, extinguishing the few lights illuminated in the room in preparation for our leave.

"You'll have to do a side-along," Dad said. "You don't know where we're going."

I quirked my eyebrow at him and stifled a yawn. "You do?" I asked. "I thought the Order didn't have the same headquarters as last time."

Mr. Weasley's eyes widened substantially and he glanced between me and Dad in surprise.

Dad cleared his throat. "I uh—figured she was old enough to know," he said.

Mr. Weasley nodded, pursing his lips.

"The headquarters isn't the same," he said, "but your father has been to the location before. You haven't, so you'll have to Apparate by side-along."

"Okay," I said.

"I'll take your trunk with me, and you'll go with your father," Mr. Weasley said. "We should leave now, before it starts getting light out."

Dad gestured for me to come closer, and I clasped onto his arm firmly. I hated side-along Apparation.

"I'll meet you there," Mr. Weasley said. "Oh, and Juliet…you'd better not say anything to the boys about the Order…Molly's…erm…a bit _firm_ in her thoughts about Fred and George. Well, you know how she gets…a bit protective."

I snickered. I was definitely aware of how over-protective Molly was…of _all_ of her children…and that included me, Hermione, and most certainly Harry.

"Of course," I said. "Won't breathe a word about it."

The three of us vanished and reappeared in a dark, secluded alley on a street I had never seen before. It was black all around us, other than the stars high above, and the light coming from the tip of Mr. Weasley's wand.

"It's this way," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "Follow me, and keep your voices down."

"Are you sure it's safe?" Dad asked, and I was sure he was referring to spies. I wouldn't have been surprised if the place was crawling with them.

"The position isn't suspected," Mr. Weasley replied. "Not yet, anyway."

Neither Dad nor I spoke at all as we followed Mr. Weasley through the night. I kept my eyes open wide, trying to adjust them to the darkness, and moved silently as we were lead up to an old-looking brick building.

I felt my jaw drop as we got closer. The building itself wasn't spectacular by any means, but very suddenly, the entire structure seemed to move and reshape itself. At once there was a stairway and door that were not there only moments before.

"Don't be too loud once we're inside," Mr. Weasley warned. "Best keep your voices down."

The inside of the structure turned out to be even more surprising than its exterior. What looked like a generally normal-looking building from the outside actually turned out to look more like a haunted dungeon on the inside.

"Are you certain this isn't the Headquarters for the Death Eaters instead?" I questioned with a quick glance around at my surroundings.

Neither Dad nor Mr. Weasley gave me an answer as I followed them into the space.

A dimly lit entryway greeted us as we stepped into the creepy house. The air inside was heavy with dust, and I could immediately tell my nose wasn't going to have an easy time enduring our stay there.

No one was there to welcome our arrival…but I guess that shouldn't have been too surprising. Everyone was surely in bed at such an early hour, and everyone who wasn't probably had more important matters to attend to. The Order of the Phoenix had an agenda to attend to, after all.

"Kirk, you should come into the kitchen so I can fill you in on the happenings," Mr. Weasley said in just above a whisper. "I suspect Sirius is awake, and I believe Remus is still here." Mr. Weasley turned to me then. "Juliet, the girls' room is—"

"Juliet!"

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!"

I craned my neck, looking upward at the sound of voices above me. Fred and George were there, leaning over the overhang in their pyjamas looking both exhausted and pleased. I felt myself smiling despite the fact that I was about ready to collapse. It felt like years rather than months since I had last seen them.

Fred and George were immediately hurrying down the flight of stairs, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes as they went.

"It's about time you got here," George said.

"We've been going nutters without you," Fred agreed.

"Boys, be quiet," Mr. Weasley warned. "You'll wake the entire house."

The twins reached the bottom of the stairs and simultaneously grabbed me into a bone-crunching hug. I groaned from the pressure, unable to hug them back as my arms were trapped between them.

"Fred, George, take Juliet upstairs. She can sleep in your room for now. It's still early and there's no need to wake the others up moving her in," Mr. Weasley said. "Now get back to bed before your mother sees you."

I seized my trunk from Mr. Weasley's grasp and tugged it toward the stairs. George helped by picking up the back end, and jointly the three of us hurried away from Dad and Mr. Weasley, who were beginning to talk conspiratorially under their breaths.

"Merlin, it's been ages since we last saw you," George said as Fred shouldered open a door at the top of the staircase.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked curiously. "We were whispering…we couldn't have woken you."

"Extendable Ears," Fred said simply.

I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Am I supposed to know what that is?" I questioned as George dropped my trunk with a thud.

"It's a new product we've invented," George explained, holding up what looked like a human ear attached to a flesh-coloured length of string.

"They let you hear with perfect clarity at amazing distances," Fred said, sounding very much like an advertisement. I rolled my eyes playfully at him.

"Mum's not impressed," George said, "but I reckon she won't ever approve of our products."

"I'm sold," I said with approval, taking the ear from George and turning it over in my hands. "Clever."

The twins grinned with pride.

"We've been trying to use them to eavesdrop on what's going on with the Order. We've only heard bits and pieces—"

"We can fill you in on what we know—"

"—but we were thinking—"

"—maybe you'd be able to sneak down there and listen in…"

"—Mum and Dad don't know you're an Animagus—"

I didn't say anything as the twins babbled on. I wasn't about to give away the fact that I already knew what the Order of the Phoenix was all about. But, if it turned out that the twins had already managed to decipher some information on their own, then I'd be able to talk to them about it. I wasn't about to break the promise I made with my father, though. I knew it was for the best if I kept my mouth shut about what I knew. I'd tell them when the time was right.

"Let's talk about it in the morning," I suggested. "I don't think I'm up for any conversation right now," I said groggily, handing the ear back to George. "I'm exhausted."

"Oh," Fred said as George shoved my trunk into a corner of the dark room, "oh, right, of course."

There were two beds in the room, along with piles of Fred and George's belongings scattered all over the floor. I couldn't see much in the darkness, but it definitely looked cleaner than the entryway to the dingy house did. At least their room looked habitable.

"Hey Jules," George said suddenly as I kicked my shoes off and threw myself down on the bed furthest from the door. I intended to fall asleep immediately, but it seemed the boys wanted to chit chat. "Where's your mum?"

I groaned and rolled myself over so I was facing the wall instead of the twins.

"She won't be joining us," I said bitterly. "I'll tell you about it in the morning."

I could sense the two of them exchanging worried glances without having to turn around and confirm it.

"Julie…what happened?" Fred asked tentatively.

The tone of his voice was mildly irritating. He was trying to be delicate…obviously the both of them were worried about my mental stability. I guess I couldn't blame them. The last time I had seen them I was a walking disaster because of Cedric's death. I had to admit I hadn't improved all that much since then.

"We haven't seen you all summer…don't you want to talk about it?" George pressed.

I rolled back over again and willed myself to open my eyes enough to peer up at them through the dim light.

"I promise I'll tell you after I get a few hours of sleep," I said, stifling a yawn.

The two of them pursed their lips. It was fascinating how they could be so identical in their actions as well as their physical appearance. It was even more fascinating that they thought they were being discreet. Did they not realize I could tell that they were worried about my state of mind?

"We've missed you," Fred said.

I sighed. I felt a little guilty that they were so pleased to see me and I couldn't even keep my eyes open. I couldn't, however, bring myself to feel guilty for feeling annoyed by their questions. I sighed. The exhaustion was definitely getting to me.

"I've missed you guys too," I replied, staring up at them with as much sincerity as I could muster. "Trust me, I have. And I swear I'll be much more friendly in a few hours," I said.

"Alright," George said, sounding satisfied. "I reckon I could use a bit more sleep myself."

I yawned again and pulled the covers over myself.

"Which one of you is bunking with me tonight?" I questioned, realizing quite easily that I was occupying one of their beds.

I saw George nudge the back of Fred's leg with his foot. I snickered and let my eyes flutter shut as Fred's weight sank into the bed beside me.

"I see how it is George," I muttered. "Sick of me, are you?"

George sniggered.

"Can't keep her eyes open, but she can still crack a joke at my expense."

"As always, love," I replied with a yawn. "Now please shut up so I can get some sleep."

Fred let out a low laugh as he eased into bed with me. I was surprised at how comforted I was by his presence, and I immediately allowed myself to cuddle into his warmth.

"I really did miss you, Julie," he said softly, running his fingers through my unruly hair carefully. "I'm glad you made it here."

I couldn't do anything but groan. I was too tired to form another coherent sentence. I was definitely shutting down.

"I'll talk to you in the morning, love," he whispered. "Sleep well…I'll be right here."

My brain wasn't functioning well enough for me to really take in what he was saying, but I tucked myself further into his embrace and breathed in deeply.

I sighed again.

He smelled _so_ good.

I felt my lips twitch and form a small smile as my thoughts began to flit away. I was overcome with exhaustion, and fell asleep easily next to Fred Weasley.

For the first time that summer, I didn't dream about Cedric Diggory.

-------

"She thinks _what_?!"

The twins were positively flabbergasted when I told them about the exchange between my mother and father. They were nearly as disgusted as I had been…and that was saying something.

"How could she possibly—?" George said.

"Has she lost it?" Fred asked.

I shook my head. "I have no idea."

"You don't think she knows where you are?" George questioned, a hint of worry playing in his voice.

"She'll obviously assume we've come to join the Order," I said, "but Dad says she doesn't know the location. I just hope she doesn't go running her mouth…if the Ministry caught wind of an Order…"

Fred and George shook their heads.

"She won't," George said. "Percy's turned against the entire family and he's had enough sense to keep his mouth shut."

My thoughts immediately snapped from my mother, and I eyed the twins with shock.

"Percy, _what_, excuse me?"

"It's a long story," Fred said with a frown on his face.

I looked back and forth between the two of them.

"How come you didn't tell me?" I asked, feeling a little hurt. "You sent all of those cryptic letters…and you never mentioned…"

"It's not something that can be easily explained by owl," Fred told me.

"We wanted to tell you…there are a lot of things we've wanted to talk to you about, actually," George continued, "but it's been difficult communicating with anyone lately. We've had to watch ourselves carefully. We can't risk anything getting leaked out."

I pursed my lips. "I understand I guess," I said thoughtfully. "So, now that I'm here…what's the story?" I asked.

"You didn't finish telling us about your mother," George pointed out.

"Sure I did," I said.

"You didn't tell us how you're feeling about it," Fred said.

"What are you? A shrink?" I asked irritably.

The two of them exchanged a wary look.

"What?" I asked. "Mum thinks I'm lying, and she thinks Harry killed Cedric and Dumbledore's a crack. She's not the only person who believes that. You think I'm going to be upset at every person who thinks I'm a liar?"

"Jules…it's your _mum_," George said carefully.

"Listen, I told you I'd tell you what happened," I said, "and now I have. Let's move on, shall we?"

I didn't miss the worried expressions on their faces, but I tried to stifle my irritation. I knew I was overreacting. I was touchy on the subject of my mother because I felt so betrayed by her. I didn't want to have to think about her on top of everything else.

I knew Fred and George were only trying to help. They were worried about me, just like Dad had been for the entire summer. Just like Katie and Lee had been with their continuous attempts at owling me to see how I was handling the whole Cedric thing. They were worried, like good friends should be.

"I'm sorry," I said with a sigh. "I'd just rather not talk about it right now. I'm a tad on the bitter side."

"S'alright," George said. "I think it's about time for dinner. We'll tell you all about our prat of a brother after we eat something."

"Good plan."

The three of us turned our heads to see Ginny standing at the door.

"Whatever you do, don't mention Percy in front of Mum. None of us wants to watch her have another breakdown," she said with a grimace.

"It's really that bad?" I questioned with a frown on my face.

The three of them nodded.

"It's horrible," Ginny told me. "But we'd better not talk about it now. Mum sent me up to get you. Dinner's ready."

George rose from his seat on his bed, and moved to follow Ginny out of the room. I started to follow them, but Fred grabbed hold of the back of my shirt to stop me.

"We'll be down in a minute," Fred told the other two, and I turned to face him with a confused expression.

"What is it?" I asked, as George and Ginny disappeared round the corner.

Fred cocked his head to one side and surveyed me with concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I eyed him with exasperation. It seemed I wasn't going to be able to escape Fred and George's concern all that easily. They seemed intent on finding out what exactly was going on in my brain. The thought was a little frustrating.

"What are you on about now?" I asked.

"Your mum," he clarified. "I know it's bothering you…you can talk to me about it."

"I don't _want_ to talk about it, Fred," I replied, pinching the top of my nose.

"Why not?" he questioned.

"What do you mean _why not_?"

"You've never kept yourself locked up like this," he answered. "Not from me and George."

"Fred, I'm just not up for a conversation about my mother's emotional abandonment of me," I told him. "You don't need to take it so personally."

"I just want to know if you're alright, is all," he answered, placing his hands on my shoulders. "I've been worrying about you all summer."

"Yeah, you've already said that," I said, rolling my eyes up to the ceiling. "Let me ask you something. Were you worried just because of what happened at the Tournament?" I questioned, feeling the hostility building up inside of me. I had only been with Fred and George for little under a day and I was already beginning to feel smothered by them. I had expected after the improvement I had made at the end of the school year, they would have been a little less…_Molly Weasley_ with me. There was no need for me to be babied.

"Juliet, no," Fred said, his eyes widening in surprise at my backlash. "I'm worried about you because I know you've been through a lot—"

"And you don't think I can handle it," I finished for him.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and he frowned.

"No, Julie…I'm worried about you because I love you."

The look in his eyes then was one of pure seriousness and hurt. I pressed my hands to my forehead and squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I immediately regretted snapping at him.

"Fred, I'm sorry," I said with a deep sigh. "I'm being a right git. I didn't mean to be so short with you."

"It's alright. You've been through a lot lately—"

"That doesn't give me the right to be horrible to you," I said. "I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated."

There was a moment where the two of us stared awkwardly at each other. It was a painful few seconds, and it made me wonder briefly if things would ever be _normal _between Fred and me again. After everything that had happened between us, things were kind of iffy. I was determined to make things right between us again…I could add it to my long list of aspirations for that year. It was going to be a difficult thing to achieve.

I forced a smile, pushing my thoughts and frustrations to the back of my mind for the time being. I needed to focus. I wasn't the only person who was having issues because of the return of You-Know-Who. The entire Weasley family was feeling the strain with the loss of Percy, and I wanted to be there for Fred and George just as they were trying to be there for me.

"I'm sorry, Fred," I said.

He pulled me into a one-armed hug, locking his arm around my neck and placing an affectionate kiss on the top of my head.

"Don't worry about it," he told me. "You've got George and me here to help you through the worst of it…and then we'll be back at school in no time. Things'll seem less dark and ominous once we're out of this shit hole."

He sent me a lopsided grin and I forced a smile. I had a feeling Fred was wrong…school was the last place on earth I wanted to be. Returning to the scene of Cedric's death was hard enough…but dealing with the constant watching eyes of hundreds more people would be hellish.

"Yeah," I said, running a hand through my hair idly, "I reckon you're right."

"Of course I am," he replied as he took my hand in his. "Now lets head down to dinner before Mum starts screaming."

I nodded and Fred led me out of the room and into the dank corridor. I wondered idly how I was going to manage to deal with the people back at school. I hadn't spoken much to Katie or Lee…and as for Alicia…there still had been no mention of her at all. Then there were Codie and Ethan…and Vince and Rachel…all of whom seemed to be holding a grudge against me after I had split up with Cedric.

And of course there was Harry…Harry Potter. He was the one and only person who had seen what had happened to Cedric (aside from You-Know-Who and his cronies, of course). He was the one person who could tell me what really happened…what Cedric's last words had been…how his eyes looked when the light faded from them…and possibly most terrifying…who had been the one to end his life.

Harry was the reason Cedric had died. He wasn't the one to murder him…no. But Harry's name had been placed into the Goblet of Fire in order to lure him into the challenge. The whole thing had been set up so You-Know-Who could get his hands on him. If Harry hadn't been in the Tournament, Cedric never would have died.

Cedric had been an innocent victim. His life had been taken from him.

All because of Harry Potter.

Harry Potter was the person I needed to speak to most…but he was also the one person on earth I wanted to avoid at all costs.

I dreaded the day I had to look at his face again.

I allowed Fred to tug me down the stairs as he whistled happily, the friction between us seemingly already forgotten.

I followed along obediently, my mind once again lost to my thoughts.

-------

**A/N:** Okay…these first two chapters are going to be a little dull. I didn't go into detail about what Juliet heard from her father, because I cover information about the Order of the Phoenix in chapter two when Harry asks Sirius about the Order. I didn't want to repeat myself, so I left it out of this chapter. Next chapter will be the rest of the stay at the Black residence, and then I think I'm going to move right in to the school year. That's when all of the excitement happens anyway, and I think I'll have a better time writing about it once I get past the more boring chapters. Hope you guys liked it anyway, and I'll do my best to have the next one up soon.


	3. Teamwork

**A/N:** This chapter is REALLY long. Much longer than I intended it to be, but I wanted to get all of the foundation stuff out of the way. I didn't want to split it into two chapters, because I'd rather get the crew to school as soon as possible. Hope you can all endure such a long chapter. Read and review!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- CHAPTER TWO ---**

_Teamwork_

_Juliet Christie_

There was a meeting going on with the Order, and as I was keeping up my act of knowing nothing about what was going on, Fred and George had enlisted me to help them eavesdrop. The twins were busy working with their Extendable Ears—which I quickly realized were a quite ingenious idea indeed—and Ginny and I were busy trying to figure out whether or not a charm had been placed on the outside of the kitchen door.

The adults were situated on the other side, supposedly having top-secret discussions about You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. Despite the fact that I knew more than the others, I had to admit I was definitely intrigued. I wanted to know what was being said just as much as the others did.

"We're going to have to tell Fred and George that their Ears are useless," Ginny said.

The two of us had been whipping Dungbombs at the door from the overhang above the kitchen. The things kept soaring away from the door without making impact. It definitely seemed the adults were taking extra precautions to keep us from listening in.

"Looks that way," I commented dully.

I wasn't really in a very good mood.

Today was the day Harry was going to be rejoining the group. Word had gotten out that he had used underage magic in order to protect himself against a Dementor attack. He was awaiting trial at the Ministry of Magic, thus someone had been sent to fetch him and bring him back to Headquarters as soon as possible.

That was the reason for my unease. I was certainly not looking forward to seeing or speaking to Harry Potter.

"If only there was another way to listen in on them," Ginny mused, leaning over the banister with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Yeah, if only," I said idly.

The twins had been pestering me to sneak into the meetings in my cat form. They suggested I linger under the sink or tuck myself in a cupboard somewhere where I wouldn't be seen. I had told them time and time again that the idea was foolish. Someone would be bound to catch sight of me, and then my father would have my head. Unlike the rest of them, Dad knew I was an Animagus.

"You know, I haven't had the chance to ask…how've you been all summer?" Ginny questioned. I pursed my lips. I had been avoiding talking to both her and Hermione about how I was feeling. It was a difficult thing to achieve seeing as the three of us were once again sharing a bedroom. I was growing tired of the way the two of them would watch me every time I stepped into the room. It was uncomfortable.

"There's no need to ask," I told her. "I've been fine."

Unlike Fred and George, Ginny seemed to know when she should keep her mouth shut. She didn't press the matter like her brothers did. Her strategy was different. She tended to wait until I came to her. This time, however, I had absolutely no intention of speaking to anyone about Cedric. Except, of course, for one person…but I was still uncertain whether or not I was able to handle _that_ conversation.

"That sounds like Harry," Ginny said suddenly, her head jerking up.

My jaw clenched. I knew I needed to face Harry sooner or later… I needed to speak to him about the night Cedric died…but I certainly wasn't looking forward to it. It seemed my Gryffindor courage was failing out on me.

I rolled my eyes and cleared my throat, trying to hide the way my fists had suddenly clenched the railing in front of me and the fact that my legs had grown rigid. "Only you would know Harry's voice through a wall," I sniggered.

Ginny smirked sarcastically at me, and she went to investigate. I lingered behind for a few moments, weighing my options. I decided I had better just suck it up and face the boy. There wasn't any sense in avoiding him anymore. I had managed it at school, but confined in a space as small as the Black house, there really was no hope in staying away from him.

Ginny hurried along, clamouring down a set of stairs, stopping in front of a closed door. Behind it I could hear several voices. I gritted my teeth in anticipation as Ginny wrenched open the door.

"Oh, hello, Harry!" she greeted, stepping into the room. "We thought we'd heard your voice."

I entered the room cautiously, intent on avoiding Harry's gaze. It ended up failing almost immediately, however. As soon as I took a step inside the room my eyes snapped instantly to his.

I could immediately tell that Harry wasn't keen on being around me either...maybe he knew part of me held him responsible for Cedric's death. In any case, his gaze moved quickly from me back to the other occupants of the room—including Fred, George, Hermione and Ron. I looked away from him, pursing my lips as Ginny spoke.

"It's a no-go with the Extendable Ears," she said. "She's gone and put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."

George looked crestfallen. "How d'you know?"

"Tonks told me how to find out," Ginny said. "You just chuck stuff at the door and if it can't make contact the door's been Imperturbed. Juliet and I've been flicking Dungbombs at it from the top of the stairs and they just soar away from it, so there's no way the Extendable Ears will be able to get under the gap."

Fred sighed heavily and gave me a meaningful look. I shook my head. There was no way I was sneaking into the Order meetings. I wasn't going to betray my dad after everything he had been through. After Mum made her standing clear, the two of us needed to stick together…even if that meant keeping secrets from Fred and George for a little while.

"Shame. I really fancied finding out what old Snape's been up to," Fred said, still staring at me meaningfully.

"Snape! Is he here?" Harry said, and Fred's gaze left mine, thankfully. I was sick of him trying to guilt trip me into caving. Did he not know who he was dealing with? It didn't work on me.

"Yeah," George said, moving behind me to close the door quietly. He took a seat on one of the beds. "Giving a report. Top secret."

Fred and Ginny moved to sit down next to George. I stayed where I was, my arms crossed over my chest. I was continuously feeling like people were wary of me. I would frequently catch some, or all, of them staring at me as if I were about to have a meltdown. It was unsettling and highly frustrating, and definitely kept me from wanting to sit comfortably amongst them.

"Git," Fred said.

"He's on our side now," Hermione said, defending Snape.

Ron snorted. "Doesn't stop him being a git. The way he looks at us when he sees us."

"Bill doesn't like him either," Ginny put in, as if that settled the matter.

"Is Bill here?" Harry asked, taking a seat on the bed opposite Ginny and the twins. "I thought he was working in Egypt?"

"He applied for a desk job so he could come home and work for the Order," Fred told him. "He says he misses the tombs, but," he smirked, "there are compensations."

I rolled my eyes. Although I hadn't quite been filled in on all of the happenings from the summer, I had been informed about Bill's new…_endeavours_.

"What d'you mean?" Harry questioned.

"Remember old Fleur Delacour?" George asked. "She's got a job at Gringotts to eemprove 'er Eeenglish—"

"And Bill's been giving her a lot of private lessons," Fred said with a snigger. "Juliet doesn't like her," he added, gesturing for me to sit with him. "Do you Jules?"

I said nothing. It was true I didn't like her—both due to her personality as well as the fact that she reminded me of Cedric's death in the Triwizard Tournament. I definitely didn't approve of Bill's sudden interest in her. I wasn't, however, about to jump in on the conversation. I knew Fred was trying to ease my discomfort. It wasn't working too well.

"Charlie's in the Order, too," George said, taking the attention off of me again. "But he's still in Romania. Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards brought in as possible, so Charlie's trying to make contacts on his days off."

"Couldn't Percy do that?" Harry asked. The rest of us exchanged dark looks.

"Whatever you do, don't mention Percy in front of Mum and Dad," Ron warned.

"Why not?"

"Because every time Percy's name's mentioned, Dad breaks whatever he's holding and Mum starts crying," Fred explained.

"It's been awful," Ginny said sadly.

"I think we're well shot of him."

"What happened?"

"Percy and Dad had a row," Fred told him. "I've never seen Dad row with anyone like that. It's normally Mum who shouts."

"It was the first week back after term ended," Ron said. "We were about to come and join the Order. Percy came home and told us he'd been promoted."

"You're kidding?" Harry said, visibly surprised.

"Yeah, we were all surprised," George agreed, "because Percy got into a load of trouble about Crouch, there was an inquiry and everything. They said Percy ought to have realised Crouch was off his rocker and informed a supervisor. But you know Percy, Crouch left him in charge, he wasn't going to complain."

"So how come they promoted him?"

"That's exactly what we wondered," Ron said. "He came home really pleased with himself—even more pleased than usual, if you can imagine that—and told Dad he'd been offered a position in Fudge's own office. A really good one for someone only a year out of Hogwarts: Junior Assistant to the Minister. He expected Dad to be all impressed, I think."

"Only Dad wasn't," Fred said grimly.

"Why not?" Harry questioned. My eyes involuntarily met his again before I snapped them away once more.

"Well, apparently Fudge has been storming round the Ministry checking that nobody's having any contact with Dumbledore," George said.

"Dumbledore's name is mud with the Ministry these days, see," Fred said, once again reaching out his hand to have me come sit down with him. I ignored it, hoping his arm would get tired and he'd give up. Having Harry in the room was making me more tense than I had anticipated. "They all think he's just making trouble saying You-Know-Who's back."

Fred noticed my obvious reluctance, and jumped up to take my hand in his. I didn't want to cause a scene, so I obliged, and slid onto the bed behind him. He gave my shoulder a squeeze and I settled in next to him, letting his body shield me a little from the rest of the occupants of the room.

I listened patiently as the others continued to fill Harry in about Percy, and Fred aimlessly traced designs and shapes out on the back of my hand with his index finger.

"Dad says Fudge has made it clear that anyone who's in league with Dumbledore can clean out their desks," George told him. "Trouble is, Fudge suspects Dad, he knows he's friendly with Dumbledore and he's always thought Dad's a bit of a weirdo because of his Muggle obsession."

"But what's that got to do with Percy?" Harry asked.

"I'm coming to that," George said, continuing. "Dad reckons Fudge only wants Percy in his office because he wants to use him to spy on the family—and Dumbledore."

Harry let out a low whistle. "Bet Percy loved that."

Ron gave a hollow laugh. "He went completely beserk. He said—well—he said loads of terrible stuff. He said he's been having to struggle against Dad's lousy reputation ever since he joined the Ministry and that Dad's got no ambition and that's why we've always been—you know—not had a lot of money, I mean—"

"_What_?" Harry said in disbelief, and Ginny made a sound much like one I would make in my cat form.

"I know," Ron said. "And it got worse. He said Dad was an idiot to run around with Dumbledore, that Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that he—Percy—knew where his loyalty lay, and it was with the Ministry. And if Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry he was going to make sure everyone knew he didn't belong to our family any more. And he packed his bags the same night and left. He's living here in London now."

Harry swore under his breath. His reaction seemed about the same as mine had been when the twins had told me the story. It was hard to believe that even a pompous git like Percy would say those kinds of things to his father. Although, contrary to my former belief, it seemed family didn't actually trump all else. It certainly wasn't the case with _my_ family.

"Mum's been in a right state," Ron continued dully. "You know—crying and stuff. She came up to London to try to talk to Percy but he slammed the door in her face. I dunno what he does if he meets Dad at work—ignores him I s'pose."

"But Percy _must_ know Voldemort's back," Harry said slowly, ignoring the simultaneous twitch from everyone in the room. Fred's hand momentarily stopped tracing, but picked up again when Harry continued. "He's not stupid, he must know your mum and dad wouldn't risk everything without proof."

"Yeah, well, your name got dragged into the row," Ron said. "Percy said the only evidence was your word and…I dunno…he didn't think it was good enough."

I scoffed. _That_ definitely sounded familiar. At least my mother wasn't the only one who didn't believe the word of Harry and me.

"Percy takes the _Daily Prophet_ seriously," Hermione informed, and the others nodded along in agreement.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. We all stared at him warily. Didn't he already know?

"Haven't—haven't you been getting the _Daily Prophet_?" Hermione asked with a nervous voice.

"Yeah, I have!" Harry said.

"Have you—er—been reading it thoroughly?" Hermione questioned. She was anxious, probably hoping not to upset him.

"Not cover to cover," Harry said. "If they were to report anything about Voldemort," everyone flinched, "it would be on the headline news, wouldn't it?"

"Well, you'd need to read it cover to cover to pick it up, but they—um—they mention you a couple of times a week," Hermione continued.

"But I'd have seen—"

"Not if you've only been reading the front page, you wouldn't," Hermione told him, shaking her head. "I'm not talking about big articles. They just slip you in, like you're a standing joke."

"What d'you—?"

"It's quite nasty, actually," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "They're just building on Rita's stuff."

"But she's not writing for them anymore, is she?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no, she's kept her promise—not that she's got any choice," Hermione replied. "But she had laid the foundation for what they're trying to do now."

"Which is _what_?" Harry asked, sounding both annoyed and impatient.

"Okay, you know she wrote that you were collapsing all over the place and saying your scar was hurting and all that?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. Rita Skeeter had written ridiculously preposterous articles about Harry for ages in an attempt to knock him down. It had caused a lot of people to decide not to take him seriously. Hermione had had something to do with her undoing, although I wasn't quite certain what.

"Well, they're writing about you as though you're this deluded, attention-seeking person who thinks he's a great tragic hero or something," Hermione said quickly. "They keep slipping in snide comments about you. If some far-fetched story appears, they say something like, 'A tale worthy of Harry Potter', and if anyone has a funny accident or anything it's, 'Let's hope he hasn't got a scar on his forehead or we'll be asked to worship him next'—"

"I don't want anyone to worship—" Harry said, growing defensive again.

"I know you don't," Hermione interrupted before he could erupt. "I _know_, Harry. But you see what they're doing? They want to turn you into someone nobody will believe. Fudge is behind it, I'll bet anything. They want wizards on the street to think you're just some stupid boy who's a bit of a joke, who tells ridiculous tall stories because he loves being famous and wants to keep it going."

"I didn't ask—I didn't want—_Voldemort killed my parents_!" he yelled. "I got famous because he murdered my family but couldn't kill me! Who wants to be famous for that? Don't they think I'd rather it'd never—"

"We _know_, Harry," Ginny stressed.

"And of course they didn't report a word about the Dementors attacking you," Hermione said. "Someone's told them to keep that quiet. That should've been a really big story, out-of-control Dementors. They haven't even reported that you broke the International Statute of Secrecy. We thought they would, it would tie in so well with this image of you as some stupid show-off. We think they're biding their time until you're expelled, then they're really going to go to town—I mean, _if_ you're expelled, obviously," she said hastily. "You really shouldn't be, not if they abide by their own laws, there's no case against you."

Hermione paused to take a deep breath as I tried to unscramble my brain. It was a difficult thing to do—follow Hermione's thinking word-for-word. I bet Harry was having a difficult time taking in so much information all at once. I was just waiting for it all to be over and done with. I was growing keen on having a word alone with him.

Before anyone managed to say anything else, the sound of footsteps could be heard on the stairs.

"Uh oh," Fred said, ceasing the tracing on my hand and giving his Extendable Ear a hearty tug. There was a loud crack and he and George had vanished just as Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway.

"The meeting's over, you can come down and have dinner now. Everyone's dying to see you, Harry. And who's left all those Dungbombs outside the kitchen door?"

"Crookshanks," Ginny said without missing a beat. "He loves playing with them."

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley said thoughtfully. "I thought it might have been Kreacher, he keeps doing odd things like that. Now don't forget to keep your voices down in the hall. Ginny, your hands are filthy, what have you been doing? Go and wash them before dinner, please."

Ginny grimaced and followed her mother out of the room, leaving me feeling highly awkward with Ron, Hermione, and Harry. They seemed unsure of what to say to me, and I knew there wasn't anything I wanted to talk to all three of the about. I sensed I wasn't going to be able to pry the lot of them apart, so I stood up from my seat and cleared my throat loudly.

"I'll see you three at dinner," I said. "Good to see you, Harry."

I excused myself quickly, and left the room. I figured I'd get my chance to question Harry at some point. I'd just have to wait until I could get him alone.

-------

Dinner was full of conversation on all fronts. It was a time to catch up for everyone involved…but that didn't mean in the slightest that it was a joyous affair. Everyone was on pins and needles trying to sidestep the topics of both Percy and my mother, all the while trying to keep tight-lipped about the Order.

I didn't have much of anything to say to anyone…or at least, not as a large group. Instead I listened idly to the conversation around the room as I helped place cutlery and napkins at each spot of the table.

"Trying to make this place fit for human habitation," Sirius was saying, waving his hand around at the dismal kitchen. "No one's lived here for ten years, not since my dear mother died, unless you count her old house-elf, and he's gone round the twist—hasn't cleaned anything in ages."

"Sirius," Mundungus interrupted. He hadn't seemed to be very involved with the conversation, but was instead inspecting a goblet situated in front of him very carefully. "This solid silver, mate?"

"Yes," Sirius said with distaste. "Finest fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."

"That'd come orf, though," Mundungus muttered, causing me to laugh involuntarily. The guy really was a dingbat.

"Fred—George—NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, causing everyone to stop what they were doing to survey the scene.

Everyone jumped away from the table at having spotted Fred and George. They had bewitched a cauldron of boiling stew, an iron flagon of Butterbeer, and a wooden breadboard and knife to hurtle through the air toward the table. The cauldron of stew scraped along the top of the table leaving a long burn mark the entire length of the way, the Butterbeer fell with a crash soaking everything in its path, and the knife slipped from the board and landed pointing down exactly where Sirius's hand had been only moments before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" Mrs. Weasley screamed. "THERE WAS NO NEED—I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS—JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW, YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

I winced at the volume of Mrs. Weasley's voice. It didn't matter how many times I heard her yell at the twins, it never ceased to shock me when she lost it. She was quite terrifying when she was angry, and I was uncertain how the twins managed to keep their cool with her.

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" Fred defended, rushing forward to yank the teetering knife out of the table. "Sorry, Sirius, mate—didn't mean to—"

Sirius, however, was laughing at the mishap, as was Harry. Mundungus, on the other hand, looked scared out of his mind. I was certain it was better if things stayed that way. I had a bad feeling about Mundungus and I wasn't sure I liked the idea of him getting too comfortable with his surroundings. He definitely seemed like the least trustworthy member of our group.

"Boys," Mr. Weasley said sternly, making quick work of cleaning up the mess Fred and George had made, "your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now that you've come of age—"

"None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted in a huff. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy—"

She stopped short, and her breath caught in her throat just as Mr. Weasley's expression turned stiff and unreadable. The rest of us exchanged quick looks before Bill jumped in.

"Let's eat," he said quickly.

"It looks wonderful, Molly," Lupin complimented, trying desperately to clear the air. No one wanted to deal with watching Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have a meltdown. It was an uncomfortable thought, and we all wanted to avoid it at all costs.

Everyone was completely silent for a few minutes. We listened to the clink of plates and scraping of forks and knives. I met George's eyes across the table and made an uncomfortable face, which he returned. Fred was seated next to George, staring down at his food with the same expression.

Mrs. Weasley was the one to break the awkward tension, which came as a huge relief to everyone.

"I've been meaning to tell you, Sirius, there's something trapped in that writing desk in the drawing room, it keeps rattling and shaking. Of course, it could just be a Boggart, but I thought we ought to ask Alastor to have a look at it before we let it out."

"Whatever you like," Sirius said. He didn't seem concerned about the topic in the slightest.

"The curtains in there are full of Doxys, too," she said. "I thought we might try to tackle them tomorrow."

"I look forward to it," Sirius said in the same dull tone.

I felt myself frowning. I knew by _we_ Mrs. Weasley meant _us_. She planned on having the kids rid the room of the Doxys. Typical. I figure that's why adults have children—to do the chores they grow tired of.

As dinner progressed the mood lightened substantially. Tonks amused everyone with her ever-changing appearances, while Mundungus told tales of questionable business dealings he had done in the past. Mrs. Weasley wasn't impressed—probably figured he'd fill Fred and George's head with too many deceitful ideas.

Through everyone catching up on lost time and enjoying themselves, there wasn't much room left to do anything but eat. Dessert was even better than dinner, and even I began to feel more like myself by the time everyone had had their fill. It was a good feeling knowing I wasn't a total lost cause. Being around my family and friends really brightened me up.

I even caught myself sending a playful nudge with my foot toward Fred across the table. I wondered idly if someone had slipped something into my drink to get me feeling giddy, because it was unlike me to willingly flirt with Fred. In the past, we had obviously had something going, but with everything else going on, it was quite possibly the furthest thing from my mind.

Fred didn't seem to care, however, and flung a few peas back at me in reply. We laughed whole-heartedly, and for a while, nothing seemed at all wrong with the world.

Of course, that moment of carefree fun was quickly stamped out when the conversation suddenly changed.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," Mrs. Weasley said, attempting to stifle a yawn.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius said, pushing his empty plate away. He turned to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

The light-hearted mood immediately vanished, and there was an automatic ripple as everyone shivered at the sound of the name. Everyone was once again tense and alert—the kind of alertness that always managed to make me nervous and uneasy.

"I did!" Harry exclaimed indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so—"

"And they're quite right," Mrs. Weasley interrupted sternly. She looked unimpressed by the change of topic, and I could see her jaw clenching tightly as she eyed Sirius. "You're too young."

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Pheonix to ask questions?" Sirius asked. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen—"

"Hang on!" George interrupted so loudly that I jumped.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" Fred asked, dropping the spoon he had been holding poised for another attack on me—leftover peas went rolling across the table. His tone was angry, and he and George were displaying identical looks of outrage.

"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" George said.

"_You're too young, you're not in the Order_," Fred mocked in a high-pitched voice that matched his mother's uncannily. "Harry's not even of age!"

I kept my mouth shut. Dad hadn't told Mrs. Weasley that I was already in the loop about the entire thing, because she would have surely gone bizerk and banned me from speaking to either of the twins. She seemed impressively keen on keeping them out of harms' way, but I knew any attempts she was making would eventually turn out to be futile. When Fred and George wanted something, there was no stopping it.

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," Sirius said calmly, "that's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand—"

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply. She looked downright scary. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" Sirius asked, pretending to sound polite.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he _needs to know_."

Everyone's eyes moved from Mrs. Weasley to Sirius, watching their battle of words. I was almost positive Sirius was going to win, but with the look Molly was sporting, it was a bit difficult to tell. She looked like she could tear his eyes out at any given moment.

I sent Fred and George a pained look from across the table. They both pulled uncomfortable faces at me.

"I don't intend to tell him more than he _needs to know_, Molly. But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back, he has more right than most to—"

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. "He's only fifteen and—"

"And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," Sirius said dangerously, "and more than some."

"No one's denying what he's done! But he's still—"

"He's not a child!" Sirius yelled impatiently.

"He's not an adult either! He's not _James,_ Sirius!"

"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly."

"I'm not sure you are! Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" Harry asked, and I bit my lip uncomfortably.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are _not_ your father, however much you might look like him!" Mrs. Weasley said, without taking her eyes off of Sirius. "You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius demanded. His voice was louder now, and the air in the room was beginning to get thick as if an explosion were about to take place.

"Meaning you have been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and—"

"We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley squealed, rounding on Mr. Weasley. "Arthur, back me up!"

Mr. Weasley's face was thoughtful. He didn't speak straight away, and everyone turned to look at him expectantly. He removed his glasses and began cleaning them on his robes without looking at Molly.

"Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in, to a certain extent, now that he is staying at Headquarters."

"Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"

"Personally," Lupin said quietly, causing attention to shift to the other side of the table where he was seated, "I think it better that Harry gets the facts—not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture—from us, rather than a garbled version from…others."

The twins and I immediately picked up on what he meant and exchanged a wary glance. Lupin must have known about the Extendable Ears…either that, or he was aware about the fact that my father had already disclosed information to me in private. Perhaps he expected I may not render the truth accurately.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said, taking a deep breath. She looked as though she were waiting for someone to join her side. When no one did, she continued, "well…I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart—"

"He's not your son," Sirius said quietly.

"He's as good as. Who else has he got?"

"He's got me!"

"Yes, the thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Everyone watched as Sirius raised himself from his seat, and if possible, the atmosphere grew even more tense and uncomfortable.

"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," Lupin said. "Sirius, sit _down_."

Sirius obliged, but didn't remove his eyes from Mrs. Weasley's heated face.

"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Lupin continued calmly, "he's old enough to decide for himself."

"I want to know what's been going on," Harry said simply.

"Very well," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice annoyed and cracking. "Ginny—Ron—Hermione—Juliet—Fred—George—I want you out of this kitchen, now."

There was an instant uproar from everyone but myself. I sat quietly in my chair, with absolutely no intention to leave. I locked eyes with my father, and he gave me a small nod, closing his eyes as if the conversation were giving him a headache. I had to agree with him.

"We're of age!" Fred and George were bellowing.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" Ron shouted.

"Mum, I _want_ to hear!" Ginny wailed.

"NO!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "I absolutely forbid—"

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," Mr. Weasley said wearily. "They _are_ of age."

"They're still at school."

"But they're legally adults now," Mr. Weasley said tiredly.

Mrs. Weasley looked like she might explode.

"I—oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron—"

"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" Ron said hotly. "Won't—won't you?" he asked, turning to Harry, suddenly looking uncertain.

"Course I will."

"Fine!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Fine! Ginny—BED!"

She then wheeled on me. I met her eyes without flinching. I was probably the only one in the room without emotion displayed on my face. This whole argument hadn't concerned me in the slightest. In fact, aside from being mildly entertaining, I was quite tired of it…much like Mr. Weasley appeared to be.

"Juliet, I suppose the boys will tell you whatever they hear—"

"There's no need for a speech, Molly," Dad interrupted. "Juliet's my daughter, _and_ she's of age. I've already told her everything."

Jaws dropped around the table, and I had to conceal a flinch at my father's words. I hadn't intended him to tell everyone that I already knew. That would certainly put me in the bad books with the twins.

Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred, George, and Ginny looked positively dumbstruck. I tried not to look at them. I knew they'd be angry with me for not telling them. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, looked absolutely furious.

"_Everything_?" she repeated.

"To an extent, Molly," Dad answered calmly. "I didn't see any sense in leaving her completely out of the loop."

"I doubt her mother would feel the same way, Kirk," Mrs. Weasley said, and I clenched my fist under the table. I still hadn't forgiven my mother.

"Well her mother's not here, is she?"

Mrs. Weasley looked like she could rip out _his_ eyes now.

"Don't look at me like that. It wasn't your call," he said. "And you've got nothing to worry about anyway. I made Juliet swear not to repeat anything I said to any of your kids. By the looks of it she kept her promise."

Mrs. Weasley scanned the room and took in the surprised and angry faces of the others sitting around the table. The sight didn't seem to satisfy her at all, but she shut her mouth as Ginny got up from the table and stormed up the stairs. Upon passing Mrs. Black's portrait, she set her ear-splitting screeches off as well. Lupin got up to restore calm, and I tried not to make eye-contact with either of the twins. Certainly I was going to get an earful from them later on.

When Lupin returned and reclaimed his seat, Sirius finally spoke.

"Okay, Harry…what do you want to know?"

The rest of us were silent, waiting to hear the answers to the questions on Harry's mind. Although I had already received quite a bit of information from my father, it didn't stop me from wanting to hear it again. Maybe something had changed, or maybe Sirius would go into more detail than Dad would. I listened on in curiosity, avoiding eye-contact with Fred and George who were staring at me incredulously from across the table.

"Where's Voldemort?" Harry asked, ignoring the shudders and winces he set off. "What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news, and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything."

"That's because there haven't been any funny deaths yet," Sirius explained, "not as far as we know, anyway…and we know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do, anyway," Lupin cut in.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry questioned.

"Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself," Sirius said. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," Lupin corrected with a satisfied smile that made my stomach churn. Nothing about You-Know-Who's return had been at all satisfying.

"How?" Harry asked.

"You weren't supposed to survive!" Sirius explained. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," Lupin said. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"How has that helped?"

"Are you kidding?" Bill spoke up incredulously. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was scared of!"

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned," Sirius continued.

"So, what's the Order been doing?" Harry questioned, looking around at the adults at the table.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," said Sirius.

"How d'you know what his plans are?"

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," Lupin said, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"

"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," Sirius divulged. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command: witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one of the groups he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"So you're trying to stop him from getting more followers?"

"We're doing our best," Lupin said.

"How?"

"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," Bill explained. "It's proving tricky, though."

"Why?"

"Because of the Ministry's attitude," Tonks said. "You saw Cornelius Fudge after You-Know-Who came back, Harry. Well, he hasn't shifted his position at all. He's absolutely refusing to believe it's happened."

"But why?" Harry asked, sounding irritated. "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore—"

"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," Mr. Weasley interrupted with a wry smile. "_Dumbledore_."

"Fudge is frightened of him, you see," Tonks said.

"Frightened of Dumbledore?" Harry said sounding flabbergasted.

"Frightened of what he's up to," Mr. Weasley elaborated. "Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minster for Magic."

"But Dumbledore doesn't want—"

"Of course he doesn't," Mr. Weasley said. "He's never wanted the Minster's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."

Lupin continued, "Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice. But it seems he's become fond of power, and much more confident. He loves being Minister for Magic and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."

"How can he think that?" Harry asked hotly. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up—that _I'd_ make it all up?"

"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," Sirius said bitterly. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself that Dumbledore's lying to destabilise him."

"You see the problem," Lupin said. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they really don't want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the _Daily Prophet_ not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's rumour-mongering, so most of the wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" Harry asked, looking around the table. "You're letting people know he's back?"

The smiles on everyone's faces were grim and humourless.

"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mad mass-murderer and the Ministry's put a ten thousand Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" Sirius said.

"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," Lupin said. "It's an occupational hazard being a were-wolf."

"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," Sirius continued, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."

"We've managed to convince a couple of people, though," Mr. Weasley said optimistically. "Tonks here, for one—she's too young to have been in the Order of the Phoenix last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage—Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset, too; he's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

"But if none of you are putting the news out that Voldemort's back—"

"Who said none of us are putting the news out?" Sirius interrupted Harry. "Why d'you think Dumbledore's in such trouble?"

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked.

"They're trying to discredit him," Lupin said. "Didn't you see the _Daily Prophet_ last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true; he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot—that's the Wizard High Court—and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."

"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog Cards," Bill put in with a grin.

"It's no laughing matter," Mr. Weasley scolded. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this he could end up in Azkaban, and the last thing we want is to have Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to he's going to go cautiously. If Dumbledore's out of the way—well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."

"But if Voldemort's trying to recruit more Death Eaters it's bound to get out that he's come back, isn't it?" Harry asked desperately.

"Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their doors, Harry," Sirius said. "He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them. He's well-practised at operating in secret. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in. He's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on those for the moment."

I sat up higher in my seat, leaning forward in interest. Never had my dad mentioned anything about You-Know-Who's _other_ plans.

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asked, taking the words right out of my mouth.

"Stuff he can only get by stealth," Sirius answered carefully, and I knew we were nearing the end of the conversation. No one wanted to give us any more information than was absolutely necessary. It was too dangerous to let us in on every secret of the Order.

"Stealth?" I asked, unable to hold myself back. The others were too busy looking anxiously at Sirius to really take notice that this was something even I hadn't been told of yet.

"Like a weapon," Sirius explained. "Something he didn't have last time."

"When he was powerful before?" Harry clarified.

"Yes."

"Like what kind of weapon?" Harry questioned. "Something worse than the Avada Kedavra—?"

"That's enough!"

Mrs. Weasley's scream was so sudden and unexpected that the rest of us jumped in our seats at the sound. Her arms were crossed and she looked positively furious.

"I want you in bed, now. All of you," she said, looking around at Fred, George, Hermione, Ron and me.

"You can't boss us—" Fred started, sounding defiant.

"Watch me," Mrs. Weasley snarled, and Fred shut his mouth. She turned to Sirius. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway."

"Why not?" Harry said quickly. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight."

"No," Lupin said quickly and firmly.

"The Order is comprised only of overage wizards," he said. "Wizards who have left school," he added hurriedly, noticing Fred and George open their mouths to jump in. "There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you…I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."

It was safe to say the discussion was officially over. Mrs. Weasley beckoned us all upstairs, and none of us had any choice but to obey her…this time.

-------

The next day was positively gruesome. As anticipated, Fred and George were furious with me. In fact, they were so angry, that they refused to speak a word to me throughout the entire morning.

We spend the major part of the early hours of the day cleaning, which didn't help ease the ill attitudes of the twins. It also didn't allow for me to attempt to explain myself. The others were holding a bit of a grudge against me as well, but I knew if I could manage to sway Fred and George to forgive me, the others would follow. Unfortunately, with Mrs. Weasley playing dictator as she made us scrub down the walls of the rooms and spray the curtains until they were free of Doxys, there wasn't much time for communication.

So, what would have been a horrid day to begin with turned out to be even worse because no one would converse with me. Hermione and Ginny had both managed to hear me out before bed the night before, and weren't nearly as angry as the others. But the hot-headed Weasley boys—Ron included—were definitely not happy with me.

Harry was another case entirely, as neither of us had spoken much to each other since his arrival at Headquarters. It was becoming a bit awkward. I had a feeling we both knew there would be a confrontation at some point in time. I constantly found myself running through my list of questions whilst I tore through the centuries of grime on tabletops and windows.

When I wasn't contemplating the upcoming conversation I was hoping to have with Harry, I was eavesdropping on the twins. I knew they wouldn't stay mad at me long, but I had decided not to push them while they were angry. I gave them their space so they could cool off, but listened carefully from a few feet away as they chattered with Harry.

They were talking to him about their joke shop…something that I had grown tired of hearing about. I wasn't altogether impressed that Harry had donated his Triwizard winnings toward funding their little project. I couldn't help feeling that the money was tainted. The tie from the money to Cedric's death was too strong. I hated that the twins had accepted it, but every time I broached the subject I ended up sounding stupid. In reality it didn't make any sense. It was only money, after all…even if it was won through the death of someone I loved.

I pushed my worries back. The last thing I wanted was to fall into the depression I was so narrowly avoiding.

"Joke shop still on then?" Harry muttered. I didn't turn my head to look at them, but kept my eyes in front of me at a stain on the wood table that looked suspiciously like blood.

"Well, we haven't had a chance to get premises yet," Fred whispered from a few feet to my right, "so we're running it as a mail-order service at the moment. We put advertisements in the _Daily Prophet_ last week."

"All thanks to you, mate," George said. I could hear the smile in his voice. "But don't worry…Mum hasn't got a clue. She won't read the _Daily Prophet_ any more, 'cause of the lies about you and Dumbledore."

I had seen the advertisement George spoke of, and I had been quite impressed at their initiative. They really did seem as though they had a business plan well worked out. In fact, I had felt a little put-out that I hadn't been a part of it. I wondered if I would have been included in the process had I not been kept away from them all summer…

It wasn't until after noon that Mrs. Weasley was finally satisfied with the curtains. And even then, it was several more hours before the lot of us were freed from the chores for the day.

However, it wasn't until nearly midnight that I managed to speak to Fred and George away from everyone else. Of course, they were still frightfully angry with me, but I wasn't going to ignore their belligerence any longer. After Ginny and Hermione had fallen asleep I Apparated into their room with a loud _crack_.

"Wassat?" Fred said groggily, and I could just make out his shape as he sat up in bed.

"Lumos," I muttered as a response, lighting the tip of my wand so I could make out both of the twins in the darkness.

There was a loud snore from the other side of the room where George slept on.

"Who do you think?" I said in just above a whisper, intent on not waking anyone else in the house...although I wasn't entirely certain that my Apparation hadn't already done it. "George, get up."

I jabbed him in the side forcibly, and was careful to stifle his moans of protest with one of his pillows, so as not to disturb anyone in the neighbouring rooms.

"What are you doing?" Fred grumbled through the dark. George had woken and shoved the pillow out of his face and onto the floor. There were suddenly three illuminated wands lighting the room.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he asked, outraged. "And what do you think you're doing, showing your face to us after what you did?"

"After what I did?" I questioned sarcastically. "What, like I physically scarred you in some way?"

"Don't be smart. You know perfectly well we have every right to be angry," George said.

"No you don't," I disagreed, "because you didn't give me the chance to explain myself."

"There's nothing to explain," George said. "You've crossed to the Dark Side and somehow think it's up to you to decide what we should and should not hear."

"Just like the rest of them," Fred agreed.

"Oh, don't be stupid," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Bet you felt pretty important at dinner, having already heard what we wanted to know all along," George snarled angrily.

I scoffed, and resisted the urge to smother him with his pillow.

"George, don't be an idiot. You know my ego had nothing to do with why I didn't tell you."

"Sure it did," he persisted.

I pushed my hair away from my face in frustration.

"I shouldn't have chosen the middle of the night to do this. Now you're cranky and moronic," I said through clenched teeth.

"Well maybe I wouldn't be cranky if you hadn't been—"

"Shut up, George," Fred interrupted wearily. "Let her explain so we can all get back to sleep."

I glanced at Fred, and although he seemed to be more reasonable despite being awake and arguing at nearly 1 o'clock in the morning, he also looked just as angry as his brother. I guess I wasn't surprised.

"So let's hear it, Juliet," he said. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I couldn't tell you," I said defensively.

"What do you mean _you couldn't_?" George asked, irritated.

"You heard my dad. He made me swear not to mention anything to either of you."

"And that stopped you?" Fred's expression was both offended and incredulous.

"I had just been betrayed by my mother," I said. "Dad stood up for me. I wasn't about to abandon him. We have to stick together."

"And the three of us?" George asked, his tone still angry. "I was under the impression we were something of a team, Jules, or have you gone and changed that on us?"

I scoffed.

"Do you think I _wanted_ to keep it from you?" I questioned.

"Surely it couldn't have bothered you that much seen as you didn't tell us," George said.

I cast a hopeful look to Fred, willing him to forgive me, but his expression matched his brothers. Even in the dim lighting I could see the anger and hurt in both of their eyes. I could feel my defence wavering a little with guilt.

"If I had thought that anything Dad told me was important enough for you to know straight away then I _would_ have told you," I said. "And I swear to you I never intended to keep it a secret forever." Neither of them spoke, so I continued. "I just…I made a promise to my dad…and after what happened with Mum…I couldn't. I'm sorry."

I could see the argument the twins had been holding on to for the duration of the day was beginning to fall to pieces. They knew as well as I did that they weren't going to stay mad at me forever.

George cleared his throat loudly.

"S'okay," he grunted, to my great surprise. The way George had been rebutting, I thought I was going to be arguing with him well into the morning.

"Yeah, I reckon we'd've done the same thing," Fred said.

"No," George disagreed, "we wouldn't have, but we understand why you did."

I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"So can we drop all the nonsense of you ignoring me?" I asked.

"Well…" Fred said thoughtfully.

"We'd be willing to, on the condition that you won't keep anymore excessively huge secrets from us in the future," George said.

"I reckon that can be arranged," I said, "as long as you two extend the same courtesy to me. We _are_ a team, after all."

"'Course we are," George agreed with a grin, all traces of the previous anger gone. He summoned his pillow with a flick of his wand. "Now do me a favour and shut up so I can sleep." He curled up under the cover of his bed and turned his back toward me. "And you'd better go give Fred a good long cuddle…a snog would probably be a good idea, too. He hasn't been himself all day, what with having to stay angry with you for so long."

Fred reached under his bed and chucked a shoe at George, hitting him on the shoulder. George groaned and lurched forward.

"Fine, she can come snog me if you'd rather. I don't mind," George said. "I just assumed you'd prefer it the other way around."

I smacked my hand to my forehead and sighed, turning to Fred.

"Remind me to never again wake him while he's sleeping," I muttered. "He's a royal pain in the arse."

Fred sniggered at my attempt to side-step an awkward situation. I knew George hadn't entirely been joking in his comment, but I wasn't in the mood to humour the idea that something was going on between Fred and me. With my world hanging by a thread as it was, it definitely wouldn't be a good idea to add another strand to my already tangled life.

"I'll see you in the morning," I said, more to Fred than George, as I could already hear the gargled sound of George's snores.

Fred looked as though he wanted to ask me to stay, and truth be told part of me wanted him to. But before that could happen I extinguished my wand and whirled around to head out the door. I figured George's temper had been pushed enough for one night. If I woke him again he'd surely have my head in the morning.

I paused at the door in a moment of weakness, and looked back at Fred. He was still seated up in his bed, looking at me with that same expression on his face—the one that silently asked me to stay with him. I knew he wouldn't ask, though. He was worried about me, and I think we were both aware that it was going to have to be _me_ who made the first move if anything were to ever happen between us. After Cedric's death, I was certain he wasn't willing to push me.

I sucked in a deep breath and opened the door quietly.

"G'night, Fred," I whispered to him.

And without waiting for a reply, I left, closing the door silently behind me.

-------

**A/N:** I intended for Juliet's talk with Harry to be included in this chapter, but it was far too long already, so I'll include it in the next one. Sorry about the length, and the wait. Leave a review, please!


	4. Divided

**A/N:** I had a difficult time getting into this chapter. It probably has something to do with the fact that finals are swiftly approaching and I've got a lot on my plate. I'm sorry if I won't be able to update for a while. I promise I will get more up as soon as possible, I just don't know when that will be.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- CHAPTER THREE ---**

_Divided_

_Juliet Christie_

Living at the House of Black was insufferable. I felt as though I hadn't breathed properly in years. The air was so stuffy and dense it was nearly unbearable.

Dad hadn't made any mention of my mother, and I didn't receive any inkling that she was trying to contact either of us at all. That was a little unsettling…as well as highly upsetting. Not only had she decided I was a liar, she didn't seem to care that Dad and I had run off.

As well, the twins and I had been told to stop contact with our other friends. It had become too risky to have owls flitting about the area while we were trying to maintain secrecy. That meant Lee and Katie were surely going to be worried beyond belief. We would definitely have some explaining to do when we returned to school.

One person who apparently wouldn't be worried was Alicia. None of us had heard from her for the entire summer. I would have been worried about her well-being, but Mr. Weasley assured us that her father was still going to work every day, and Alicia was perfectly safe.

And that brought forward an entirely new possibility for why she was keeping to herself.

"You don't think…she _believes_ what Fudge has been saying, do you?" Fred asked, as the three of us lay around their bedroom. It was one of the few peaceful moments we had where Mrs. Weasley wasn't forcing us to clean up the mess of a house we were in.

"I can't see why else she'd be ignoring us," I said with a sigh. "Your dad says Mr. Spinnet idolizes Fudge."

"You think that'd persuade her into thinking Harry's a liar?" Fred asked, his eyebrows scrunched up in thought.

I had to admit, it seemed doubtful. Alicia was one of my closest friends, and on top of that she was friendly with Harry. I couldn't imagine why she wouldn't take either of us seriously. And then there was Dumbledore…I had never known Alicia to have a problem with him.

"I don't know," I said tentatively, eyeing George for some sign on how he was feeling about the entire conversation. "I can't really think of another reason why she'd be so dodgy with us."

Fred nodded in agreement and cast a look to his brother. George was staring ahead blankly. It was hard to tell if he was even listening to us or not.

Fred cleared his throat. "You alright, mate?" he asked.

George's eyes refocused and he turned his head toward the two of us.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked innocently.

"You're not worried about Alicia?" I asked awkwardly. It was very rare that I talked to either of the twins about the topic of girlfriends or relationships. In fact, all three of us had certain issues with talking about emotions. It was the kind of thing that we generally just _knew_ about each other. We didn't tend to have to ask.

He shrugged. "I guess we'll have to wait for school to find out what's been going on with her," he said.

I didn't buy his nonchalant attitude, but one glance toward Fred and I knew I shouldn't press the matter. Maybe he'd prefer to discuss it with his twin without me around. I wasn't offended; I knew there were certain things I didn't particularly enjoy talking to them about, either.

Fred sighed, signalling a conversation change, and I flopped backwards onto my back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I can't wait to get out of this place," Fred commented idly.

I knew precisely what he meant.

At the moment, the "Noble House of Black" was the last place I wanted to be.

Being cooped up and unable to go outside was creating problems with everyone. Dad was fretting over my mother (although he wouldn't speak a word to me about it); Harry was continually moody and on-edge; Mr and Mrs Weasley were upset about Percy; Sirius was still furious with Molly; Ginny was still angry at her mother for treating her like a child; Hermione's cat Crookshanks wasn't allowed outside, which had him irritated and in turn caused Hermione and Ron to bicker more than usual; of course, there was George who was visibly worried about Alicia although he wouldn't speak a word about it; Fred was concerned about George's state of mind; and then there was me.

There was a knock at the door, which saved Fred and me from forcing friendly conversation with George. He didn't seem to want to talk at all, and I knew there wasn't anything either of us could do to sort out the issue of Alicia until we actually talked to the girl in person. It would just have to wait.

It was Ginny at the door, and she opened it up enough to stick her head into the room.

"Mum says to wash up for lunch."

George dragged himself out of bed wordlessly, and Fred and I followed. We exchanged looks of worry, but didn't say anything to Ginny when she eyed us curiously.

"Any improvement with Mum?" Fred asked casually.

Ginny shook her head in response. "She's still fuming mad about Sirius. She can't get over the fact that no one took her side in the argument. Thinks every one of us is _too young_ too know what's really going on."

We were nearly at the stairs when I spotted Harry lingering in what was presently his bedroom. He was alone, and I immediately made a decision to speak to him. I hadn't had the chance to confront him since we had been there.

"I'll be down in a minute," I said to the others, stopping in my tracks to stare into the bedroom. Harry hadn't noticed the attention he was getting from me.

"Juliet, what—"

"Just go on," I said, shushing Fred, "I'll be right down."

I waited for the three of them to disappear down the stairs before making my way into the other room. I didn't want any of them eavesdropping on the conversation. This was going to be difficult and painful enough as it was.

I stood in the doorway for several seconds before Harry noticed me there. When he did his eyes widened in surprise and his mouth opened a little as if he were going to say something, but decided against it. He jumped up from his seat on his bed and stood rigid and wary.

I took a step quickly into the room and closed the door quietly behind me. There was no need to let our voices carry down the stairs. I didn't want someone to come investigate. Although, I thought I may regret that decision if we broke out into a duel. As much as I didn't like Harry at the moment, I certainly didn't want to _kill_ him. I idly hoped he felt the same way toward me.

"What do you want?" he asked, as soon as I had turned around to face him.

He looked angry, but that was nothing new. These days it wasn't hard to tell that Harry's temper lingered very close to the surface. It wouldn't be difficult for this conversation to turn really ugly.

"Good to see you're in such a chipper mood," I commented, ignoring his question.

I could feel the hostility emanating from him as he stared at me. It was a bit unsettling. And all this time I had thought _I_ was the one carrying the negative feelings…

"If you've come to place blame on me, you can save it," he said harshly.

I stared at him pointedly for a moment. His tone said he was angry with me, but the look in his eyes told me there was no one who blamed Harry more for Cedric's death than himself.

I pursed my lips, suppressing the guilt that began to creep up on me. I didn't want to feel sorry for Harry. It was _his_ fault this had happened.

"That's not what I'm here for," I lied. I knew if I placed blame on him he would be more reluctant to tell me what I wanted to know.

"Then what do you want?" he repeated. His expression was less hostile and more guarded.

"I want to hear it from you," I said firmly. "I want to know exactly what happened."

All I knew about Cedric's death was the warped and twisted tales that had been swarming around Hogwarts during the last few days of school. Paired with what I had seen for myself, and the vague description Dumbledore had given, I didn't have any of the information I desired.

"You know what happened," he said immediately.

"I want to hear it from you," I repeated. "I want to know what _really_ happened."

"I can't help you," he said, staring at me coldly.

"Don't be stupid, Harry," I told him. "Tell me what happened."

"I don't want to talk about Cedric," he said.

I hadn't anticipated that. Because I had gotten it into my mind that Harry was to blame for Cedric's death, I had always assumed he'd be perfectly willing to tell me what happened. Up until this point, I hadn't realized he was suffering over Cedric's death, too. He blamed himself, just as I—and so many others—did.

"Well you're going to," I said, shifting my weight so as to block the door a little more. I wasn't going to let him leave without hearing the full story.

"No I'm not," he emphasized, "especially not with you."

I was a little offended by that, and I let my face colour with anger.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He looked at me as if the answer was obvious.

"You loved him. Do you think I want to tell you what happened to him? You shouldn't have to deal with that."

My argument got caught in my throat and my eyes went wide.

_What_?

He thought he was protecting me by keeping himself locked up? He was…looking out for me?

I could feel my questions and points of argument rearranging in my head as we stood there staring at each other. I was going to have to approach this conversation much different than I had thought.

"I need to know," I said. I was uncertain of what else I could say. I had anticipated to be yelling at him by this point. I hadn't ever imagined he was shouldering just as much—if not more—pain as I was.

"I can't."

"Harry, have you ever _tried_ to talk it out with someone?" I asked, wanting desperately for him to start talking. "It would probably help to get it off your mind."

"And _your_ mind?" he countered. "Do you think I'm willing to let you suffer through my pain as well?" he looked angry again.

"I know what I'm getting myself into," I said calmly.

"Why do you need to know, anyway?" he questioned. "I certainly wish I didn't know."

I pursed my lips. I wasn't willing to tell him that. I hadn't even fully accepted for myself exactly why I wanted to know the details of Cedric's death. I wasn't about to tell him, because then he'd refuse to give me the full story.

"If I understand, it'll help me come to terms with it," I said. It wasn't entirely untrue, and it was the only explanation I was willing to give him.

"Trust me, you don't want to hear it," he said firmly.

"Do you really need another enemy right now, Harry?" I asked. My tone was just a tad threatening. I knew it would work, though. I knew Harry didn't want another friend to turn against him. He needed as many people on his side as he could get.

"You think it's my fault," he said. It wasn't a question. It came out more of a sudden realization.

I said nothing.

"You think it's my fault Cedric died!" he said, his voice growing tense. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and his face was growing red. This had been more of how I pictured the conversation going.

I jutted my jaw out a little and looked at him defiantly.

"Yeah, I do," I told him honestly. "Does that mean you won't tell me what happened?"

"I didn't cause Cedric's death!" he yelled angrily. He sounded as though he were trying to convince himself rather than me.

Again I stared at him, saying nothing. I was certain everyone downstairs had heard him yelling. I wondered if they'd come to investigate or not. I hoped they wouldn't.

"You must know that!" he demanded.

"If you hadn't been in the competition, he wouldn't have died," I said calmly.

He was outraged, that much I could tell.

"Well if that's the case, then it's Barty Crouch Jr. who killed him! He stuck my name in the competition. Or how about it was a suicide, as Cedric put his own name in the Goblet of Fire…or even better, YOU killed him, because you supported him along the way, keeping him going. How about that, huh?!"

My heart stopped and my breathing hitched.

"How _dare_—"

"What happened to Cedric was beyond my control," he interrupted, his voice quivering, "just as it was beyond Professor Dumbledore's, Cedric's, or _yours_."

I was silenced. I knew that he was right. He was being logical. Cedric's death was due to a whole number of tiny decisions and details. It was ridiculous to assume any one person was at fault for his death. I _knew_ that. I always had…

"I'm sorry," I said, taking a deep breath. I broke my eye contact with Harry for the first time since we had begun talking. I was feeling guilty. "Please tell me what happened."

He looked for a minute like he was going to continue to object, but he seemed to reconsider.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I nodded, positive that I needed to hear the story now that I had come so far into the conversation.

"I have to know," I emphasized.

Harry shut his eyes and fell silent. For a moment I thought he wasn't going to say anything, but when he began to speak he had jumped right into the story.

"I should have realized something was wrong straight away," he said quietly. "There was something scary going on from the beginning…when I was in the maze…I found Fleur on the ground…she looked…"

"Dead," I supplied. "I know, I was there."

Harry cast me a confused look. I shook my head and gestured for him to continue.

"Well it turns out it was Krum who did it. He was being controlled by Crouch's son," Harry told me. "I should have figured something strange was going on from the beginning…but I guess I got caught up in the game."

I nodded to show I understood, but I was uncertain what I should say. I _knew_ something had been wrong with Fleur when I saw her in the maze. I _knew_ that something strange had been happening. It concerned and angered me greatly that Harry hadn't picked up on it. He could have easily stopped Cedric's death from happening.

I cleared my thoughts. We had already established that Cedric's death was an accident. There were too many variables…too many things had gone wrong.

"Cedric and I got through the last of the maze together," Harry said. "We sort of saved each other's necks. For a while there, we were…a team."

Harry sat down on the bed and looked down at his feet. His eyes were filled with the memories from that day. I was absorbed in the story, and stood staring at him from across the room. I was terrified to hear the rest…

"When we got to the Cup, we decided to take it together. After all we had gone through…it seemed like the right thing to do," he said quietly, holding his head in his hands.

I nodded again. "I was there for that too," I said.

Harry looked up.

"When you say you were there…?"

"I ran into the maze," I told him. "I'm surprised you haven't heard the rumours. I figured something was wrong, and went after you…all of you."

His eyes widened. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, well…you had a lot to deal with. There were rumours floating all around the school. People think I was involved somehow."

"So…you were there…the entire time?" he questioned.

"I guess you didn't hear me," I said softly. "When I saw the two of you at the Cup...I was screaming. I tried to call you back."

Harry pursed his lips in thought. He shook his head.

"I didn't hear you."

I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes, trying to fight back my tears. It was horrible to know that even after everything I went through…running into the maze…the horrible feeling of dread and terror…none of it mattered. They hadn't even heard me.

"Yeah, I figured," I said softly.

There was a pause where the atmosphere in the room darkened. The next part of the story was the frightening part.

"When we took the Cup, we were transported," Harry said. He eyes were unfocused, like his mind was back in the maze rather than with me in this room. "We ended up in a graveyard…dark and overgrown. It was terrifying…eerie and deserted."

I held my breath, watching him fight through his words. His breathing had picked up, and I was certain his heart was racing. He was starting to sweat, too.

"At first, we thought it might be part of the task," he said. "But then…"

I was learning instinctively closer. I still wasn't breathing.

"We were staring into the darkness, and someone came out…carrying something in his arms. We had our wands…because we knew then that it wasn't part of the Tournament." Harry looked as though he might break down then, but he took a deep breath and continued. "My scar…sometimes it hurts when Voldemort—" he waited for me to wince, but it didn't happen. I was too far gone, clinging to every one of his words. "—when Voldemort is nearby. Well, it exploded then. The pain was…excruciating. If it hadn't been so bad…if I could have thought clearly…I would have known right then."

"It was him?" I guessed. And I felt a trickle of fear course through me. Had it been the Dark Lord himself that killed Cedric?

"He was there, yeah," Harry said. "And then he spoke…he said '_kill the spare_'. And then…and then he…and then Cedric was just…_gone_. Just like that."

My breath came whooshing out of me uncomfortably. I was gasping as I spoke.

"Did he…did he…_know_? Did Cedric understand what was happening before he…?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think he had time to work it out."

I wasn't sure if that was comforting or not. I knew there wasn't much of a defence against the killing curse…but still. Perhaps if he had known it was coming he would have been able to do something. At least he hadn't spent his last moments on earth knowing he was going to die. Perhaps that was something.

"It happened so fast," Harry muttered. "I didn't even have time to react before Wormtail was pulling me to my feet."

My brain had to work to catch up to him. I was picturing Cedric's lifeless body—the same body I had stood over in the field at Hogwarts. I tried not to break down from the memory.

"Wormtail?" I asked, my eyes widening. "He was the one who…?"

Harry nodded, his lips pursed in a firm line. His eyes were full of loathing and heated anger. I knew why. Wormtail—Peter Pettigrew—had caused his parents' death, framed his godfather, and apparently also murdered Cedric. I was suddenly seething.

"Pettigrew," I repeated, letting the name burn into my mind. I felt myself fill up with hatred and anger.

"After he was found out by Lupin and Dumbledore back in third year, he ran off," Harry told me. "It was him who helped bring Voldemort back."

I glared at Harry. But my anger wasn't directed at him. My mind was running mad picturing myself ripping Pettigrew to shreds. Peter Pettigrew had murdered Cedric. Cedric Diggory had died at the hand of that smarmy little rat of a human being. I could feel my blood boiling with rage.

"What happened next?" I asked, struggling to keep my anger in check.

Harry drifted back into his memory, and his eyes once again grew hazy. "The…_thing_ he was carrying in his arms…it was Voldemort. He was inhuman and…_sad_ looking. Wormtail tied me up, and dragged out this huge cauldron."

I screwed up my face in confusion. I hadn't realized I was just as curious about the return of the Dark Lord as I was about who had killed Cedric.

"He was making some sort of potion…to reform Voldemort. He needed my blood," Harry explained, swallowing hard at the thought. "That's why they needed to get me there. He killed Cedric because he wasn't necessary to the plan."

I tried not to focus on Cedric's death, and pushed Harry to tell me the rest of the story.

"He took your blood?" I asked, feeling my stomach lurch at the thought.

Harry nodded. "And stuck Voldemort…in his horrible…_disgusting_, terrifying form…into the cauldron. Then Wormtail…he…cut off his own hand."

Harry was struggling to form coherent sentences now. He looked…tortured. He was pained. It disturbed me greatly to see him in such a state. I was terrified simply from listening to his tale.

"He put his own hand in the cauldron, and my blood…and whatever else was in there…And then, when the potion stopped bubbling…"

"Voldemort," I said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. I couldn't even be shocked that I had spoken his name aloud. I was too fixated on the image of the Dark Lord rising from a bubbling cauldron. I was suddenly extremely ashamed that I had ever blamed Harry. He was dealing with demons far greater than I could have possibly imagined.

"You don't have to tell me any more," I said suddenly. I could tell this was extraordinarily difficult for him.

He looked up at me, surprised.

"If you don't want to," I explained quickly.

There was a moment where he considered me, but he spoke with assurance.

"I want to."

I nodded solemnly, watching as he fought to get his next words out.

"Voldemort checked the Dark Mark on Wormtail's arm," Harry continued, "and said that others would be coming…Death Eaters."

I stared, horrified, at him.

"They came," Harry said. "Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair…there were others, too. Voldemort was angry with them for not trying to find him sooner. He yelled at all of them. They nearly forgot I was there…but then he used the Cruciatus curse on me…gave me back my wand…told me we were going to duel."

My hand was at my mouth. My mind was swimming.

"He was playing with me," Harry said with disgust in his tone. "He knew he was going to kill me…he was having a bit of fun with it. He decided he wanted to torture me before finishing me off," he recalled. "But something…_strange_ happened when he tried to kill me. Just as he tried to use the killing curse, I cast a spell, too. And our wands…they…_joined_ somehow. They were joined by the light coming from our wands…then we were in the air."

He paused for a minute to study my perplexed face.

"It was some kind of reaction between our wands…they're similar," he explained. "But at the time…I just couldn't believe I was alive. Light surrounded us—like a cage—and Voldemort told the Death Eaters to stand down. And…I know this will sound impossible…but…Cedric came out of the light…he came out of Voldemort's wand."

My eyes widened and I gasped audibly.

"H-how…?" I stuttered.

"I'm not exactly sure," Harry admitted. "But he looked so…_real_. Not a ghost…but solid. I know it's hard to understand, but he was _there_. He told me to hold on…so I did."

"Cedric was _there_?" I asked, sounding extremely unsure. "How is that possible?"

Harry shook his head.

"It was something Voldemort had never seen before, either. He was just as shocked as I was…but Cedric wasn't the only one," he continued. "An elderly man I had once seen in a dream came out next…he told me Voldemort had killed him, and to keep fighting. Then Bertha Jorkins...and some I didn't recognize…they lingered around us, always whispering. And then…my…my parents."

I could see the pain in Harry's expression as he recalled the memory of his parents. I didn't say anything. I couldn't imagine what he would have gone through then. It was an impossible situation. And yet, I couldn't help but believe him.

"They told me that I would have to break the connection, and they would linger long enough for me to get back to the Portkey," he said softly. "They were going to save me."

"That's how you escaped?" I said, although I knew the answer.

"Cedric…he told me to take his body back to his parents," Harry whispered. "As soon as the connection was broken I ran. I reached his body and summoned the Cup…"

I nodded my head. I knew the rest of the story.

I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes, and my head throbbed in pain.

I could hear yelling on the stairs. Mrs. Weasley was calling up to us to come down for lunch. Her voice was wary. I suspected if we lingered much longer she'd come up to investigate.

I stared at Harry for a moment, completely unsure of what to say. Deciding nothing _could _be said, I turned to leave, but Harry's voice stopped me.

"Juliet."

I turned back around to face him. He had stood up from the bed, and taken a few steps forward.

"He said something else—Cedric—before the connection broke."

My heart skipped a beat and my breathing hitched. Harry's gaze was intent and meaningful on mine.

I opened my mouth to stop him…to tell him not to say it, but Harry didn't notice. He said it anyway, although I was certain I didn't want to hear it.

"He said he forgives you," Harry said. "And that…he loves you."

I gasped, and my hand went to my mouth again. The tears that had been threatening to fall slipped down my cheeks as a sob broke through my lips.

I shook my head and clamped my eyes shut, unwilling to look at Harry.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

I bit down on my hand to keep myself from yelling out in agony, and let the tears continue to fall.

I had never deserved Cedric Diggory. He had been far too good for me. Far too loving, and caring, and wonderful.

I was going to ensure that Cedric hadn't died in vain. I owed Cedric Diggory my life. If he hadn't died, there would be no proof of the return of the Dark Lord. The world would be even more ignorant than it is now. We all owed Cedric our lives…and I was going to make certain that his death was not forgotten.

And even more, Peter Pettigrew was going to seriously regret turning his wand on a young man so beautiful, innocent, and good-hearted as Cedric Diggory.

-------

The gloom of the House of Black lessened substantially after my talk with Harry. The tension had dwindled, and I had surprisingly managed to connect with him quite well. Despite the guilt that was continuing to linger inside of me, I had grown certain that I could no longer hold a grudge against him for what had happened.

However, although things weren't so awful anymore, it didn't change the fact that I was beyond anxious to get back to school…although in the back of my mind I was constantly reminded of the terrors that were waiting to haunt me once we returned. I was definitely not looking forward to once again facing the scene of Cedric's death. My stomach lurched with the thought.

Despite the horrible feeling of dread looming overhead, relief spilled over me when the day arrived that we were to return to Hogwarts. Although I wasn't particularly comfortable with the thought of being away from my father and the others, I was eager to leave the cold, depressing little house.

"Juliet," my father said to me before seeing me out of the house, "I'll be keeping in touch, but you must remember, any owls being sent may be intercepted. Be sure not to include anything about the Order. If anything were to fall into the hands of the Ministry, or worse—"

"I know, Dad," I interrupted, "I'll be careful."

He gave me a quick hug, then stepped aside as Bill yanked on my arm.

"You," he said pointedly, staring me in the eye seriously, "are to owl me straight away if you need anything. Got it?"

I couldn't help but smirk. "You're starting to take on the qualities of your mother," I commented. "And won't you be a little busy with a certain French Miss to bother with the likes of me?"

He smirked back at me. "I'm serious. If you need _anything_, you contact me immediately. Don't be getting yourself into trouble."

I sighed, feeling mildly frustrated with him. Bill had always been a little protective of me ("like an older brother should be" as he constantly reminded me), but since Cedric's death and now with the row between my parents going on, he was becoming infuriating.

"Promise me," he urged.

"Yeah, okay," I said through clenched teeth. I loved Bill, but this was excessive. What did he want? For me to owl him any time someone sent a snarky comment toward me about Cedric's death? It's not like it was imperative that he bother with trivial matters—such as my well-being—while the Dark Lord was on the loose. He needed to focus on saving the world, never mind making sure no one sent me spiralling further into my depression. I could take care of myself.

"Good," he said, tugging me into a tight hug. "And keep an eye on Fred and George…try not to let them hassle Ron too much."

I laughed. I knew that was beyond my control. Ever since Ron had received his Prefect badge, the twins hadn't stopped picking on him.

"I'll do what I can," I said, "but I'm not making any promises."

He grinned back at me. "Alright, you'd better get a move on. I'll see you soon, I imagine."

I left Bill to bid farewell to Ginny, and handed my trunk off to Mad-Eye. He was in charge of getting everyone's luggage to King's Cross.

We were exiting the house in groups and walking to the station. Harry was to go with Mrs. Weasley and Tonks. Fred, George, and Ginny were travelling with Lupin, and Hermione, Ron, and I were heading there with Mr. Weasley.

As everyone gave their last goodbyes, individual groups began to push their way out of the small door. We were the first to leave, waving a last goodbye to the others as we shoved our way out.

The walk seemed to drag on a lot longer than it should have. The four of us headed in a different direction than the others in order to avoid suspicion, and it took us nearly twenty minutes to get there. None of us said much of anything, as Mr. Weasley was watching for any spying eyes or followers. Hermione and Ron whispered to each other, but left me trailing a little bit behind. I was sure they were muttering about something pertaining to Harry, and I was certain I wouldn't be welcomed into whatever the conversation was. Sometimes it was quite infuriating how secretive the three of them were.

Well, I guess Fred, George, and I weren't much different.

When we made it to King's Cross, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and Harry were already there. Mad-Eye Moody had made it, too, and was unloading our trunks from the trolley he had been pushing.

I spotted Sirius there, too—in his dog form, of course—and was surprised that Mrs. Weasley hadn't managed to make him stay put in the house.

"No trouble?" Moody asked as Lupin arrived with Fred, George, and Ginny in tow.

"Nothing," Lupin replied, reaching around to give everyone's hand a shake.

"Well, look after yourselves," he said. "You too, Harry. Be careful."

"Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled," Moody grumbled, taking Harry's hand firmly once Lupin had let go. "And don't forget, all of you—careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all."

Moody's magical eye whizzed around at all of us as if to emphasize his reminder.

"It's been great meeting all of you," Tonks said, giving Hermione and Ginny a one-armed hug. "We'll see you soon, I expect."

The warning whistle sounded and Mrs. Weasley began pushing all of us toward the train.

Sirius the dog jumped up on his hind legs, placing his big front paws on Harry's shoulders.

"Would you look at that, Harry," I said. "Your dog thinks he's people."

Harry gave me a lopsided grin as Sirius let out a low bark of disapproval at my joke. I gave him a curt nod in response, and hurried off with the others as Mrs. Weasley scolded Sirius for not behaving more like a dog.

Harry was pushed away from Sirius and the lot of us clamoured onto the train, only to lean out of the nearest window to wave goodbye.

"He shouldn't have come with us," Hermione said, her tone coloured with disapproval.

"Oh, lighten up," Ron said, "he hasn't seen daylight for months, poor bloke."

Fred clapped his hands together from behind me. "Well, can't stand around chatting all day, we've got business to discuss with Lee. See you lot later."

He and George turned to leave, but not before Fred grabbed hold of my arm and tugged me away with them. He let George wander ahead a few paces and bent down to speak into my ear.

"I was thinking maybe you could track down Katie," he said quietly. "The two of you could figure out what's going on with Leesh. I think it'd bother George if we talked about it in front of him."

"Okay," I said, feeling a little uncertain. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be separated from the twins. I knew there were plenty of passengers on the train that had believed I was somehow involved in Cedric's death. The Hufflepuffs in particular didn't like me much as of the end of last term.

"I'll worry about Lee," Fred said hurriedly. "Let me take your trunk."

He grabbed hold of my trunk and hurried off to catch up to George. I frowned to myself and turned on my heel, intending on searching the train for Katie. I sincerely hoped I was heading in the right direction…and that she wasn't already in a compartment with Lee waiting for us.

As predicted, as I hurried along the small corridor I caught many people staring after me intently. Obviously I was still a topic of gossip amongst my peers. I suddenly felt very sorry for Harry. He'd be going through even more hardship than I was now that we were back at school. He was surely going to be facing much criticism this year.

"Juliet!"

Thankfully, I was saved the hardship of having to avoid the staring eyes of so many people still lingering out of their compartments. There was no way I was going to be able to put up with it, what with everything else going on. I was beginning to think perhaps I _would_ have been better off staying at Headquarters.

Katie was hurrying toward me. She didn't have her trunk with her.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" she said.

"We only just got to the station," I told her.

"How are you?" she asked seriously. Although I had had contact with her throughout the summer, it was obvious that she had been worried about me. I couldn't say as I blamed her after that state I had been in during the previous school year.

"Better," I said. I didn't want to get into it.

"Where are Fred and George?" she questioned, immediately catching that I didn't want to talk about it.

"They went to find Lee."

"Lee's got a compartment for us down at that end," she said, nodding in the direction Fred and George had gone.

"Is Alicia with him?" I questioned, as the two of us began to wander past the compartments. People continued to crane their necks to get a look at me as we passed.

Katie shook her head and made a face.

"What?" I asked. "Have you seen her?"

"I did," Katie replied. "She hardly looked at me. I think something's wrong."

I pulled a face.

"I have a hunch," I told her.

Katie gave me a questioning look.

"Her dad," I said. "He thinks Dumbledore's a crack and Harry made up the story of You-Know-Who coming back. I think Alicia agrees with him."

Katie's eyes went wide.

"You really think that could be it?" she asked.

"I can't think of another explanation."

She pursed her lips together, mulling over the possibility.

"Fred thinks so too?" she asked.

I nodded.

"And George?"

"It's upsetting him more than he's letting on, I think," I told her. "Fred and I haven't been able to get him to talk about it at all."

Katie screwed up her face.

"Bloody hell," she muttered.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And Fred's elected the two of us to figure out what's going on."

Katie winced.

"I reckon we'll have to confront her at some point. We _are_ sharing a dormitory, after all," she said.

"We'll worry about it later, then," I told her. "For now let's just get out of here. I'm sick of being ogled like I'm some kind of freak."

"It won't last," Katie said comfortingly. "With everyone so worked up over Dumbledore and Harry, they won't have time to make up rumours about you."

"Let's hope so," I said.

As we approached the last of the compartments, I suddenly remembered something.

"Kates, how is Ethan?" I asked warily. I knew that none of Cedric's mates had been on very good terms with me after Cedric died. I was extremely grateful that they wouldn't be around this year for me to deal with, but last I heard Katie was still dating one of Cedric's closest friends.

"Not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about," Katie said easily. "Well…he _was_, but he isn't any more. Neither is Codie, I think."

"They don't think that I had anything to do with…what happened, do they?" I asked.

"'Course not," she replied, and pointed to the compartment on the left. "We're in here."

I hadn't exactly gotten the information I wanted out of her, but I let the topic go, for now. I didn't even know when I would be seeing Cedric's friends next. There was no need to be fretting over what they thought of me. There were many more pressing issues that I could be dealing with instead.

Katie pushed open the compartment door and all three boys looked up at us expectantly. I didn't miss the way George's expression fell just a little bit upon seeing Alicia was not with us.

"Hey, Kates," Fred greeted cheerfully, trying to evade the awkwardness that was threatening to engulf us all.

"Hello you two," she said, smiling brightly at Fred and George. "How was your summer? From the sounds of your letters it was pretty top-secret."

"You've got that right," Fred told her. "We spent the entire summer trying to eavesdrop as everyone else got to plot against You-Know-Who.

Katie's eyes widened a little bit as she took a seat next to Fred and Lee. I sat down on George's right and attempted to communicate to Fred with my eyes. I shook my head infinitesimally to tell him we hadn't tracked down Alicia. He must have understood, because he frowned a little.

The train ride to Hogwarts was far more awkward than any other year. We chatted amiably as always, but having to sidestep the topic of Alicia was a little worrisome, and I'm sure George picked up on what we were doing. I think it only irritated him more.

What's worse, Fred, George, and I tried to fill Katie and Lee in on some of the happenings of the Order. We were careful not to tell them too much, but we knew they were both on Harry's side when it came to the issue of You-Know-Who. They had just as much a right to know the truth as we did.

I didn't tell anyone what Harry had shared with me.

When we made it to the castle, everyone was starving. I was so hungry that I almost didn't notice the whispers and pointing that came my way as I passed by students in the Hall. I hoped Katie was right and things would die down.

Although we were excited for the feast, the atmosphere in the Great Hall was thick with tension. The Sorting Ceremony was the first thing on the list. And this year, what the hat sang about was particularly disconcerting:

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

'_Together we will build and teach!'_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might some day be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is pureset.'_

_Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest.'_

_Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name,'_

_Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same.'_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the houses and their founders_

_Retained a friendship firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with duelling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning _

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfil my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether Sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you…_

_Let the Sorting now begin._

The applause that followed the song was riddled with whispered comments from students all across the Great Hall.

I exchanged a worried look with Fred, and glanced down at Alicia at the other end of the Gryffindor table. The Sorting Hat seemed to be precisely accurate about the division of Hogwarts…and there was no doubt in my mind that it was right about the prediction for the future.

One thing was absolutely certain:

Things were definitely going to be different this year.

-------

**A/N:**__Review, please.


	5. Righteous Rebellions

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- CHAPTER FOUR---**

_Righteous Rebellions_

_Juliet Christie_

The term got off to a horrible start. Dumbledore's opening speech was interrupted when he introduced the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher: Professor Dolores Umbridge.

She was a short, round woman who spoke in an irritatingly high voice. She made a speech droning on about discouraging '_progress for progress's sake'_ and prohibiting certain magical practices. Immediately, several of the Gryffindors were concerned. Hermione was the first to realize what was happening.

"The Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts," she had said.

Not only that, but the entire school did seem to be divided over Harry's claim that the Dark Lord had returned. I had been certain that at the very least, the Gryffindor house would have banded together to see reason, but it seemed Alicia wasn't the only one who might not believe the truth.

The fact was many of the students of Gryffindor weren't taking the topic seriously. Included in the list were Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown. That meant there was going to be a lot of hostility brewing within the castle.

Despite the obvious tension, Fred and George continued with their usual antics. As soon as we had made it up to the common room after the opening feast, they posted a bulletin on the notice board:

_GALLONS OF GALLEONS!_

_Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?_

_Like to earn a little extra gold?_

_Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs._

_(We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.)_

Katie and I left the boys to their mischief, heading up to our dormitories warily. Neither of us was much looking forward to the awkward conversation we were going to be having with Alicia.

The two of us trudged up the stairs to our dormitory after saying goodnight to the boys.

"What should we say?" Katie asked nervously.

I shot her a clueless look. "I have no idea."

I shouldered my way into our dorm, but didn't make it past the threshold of before I was bombarded by Angelina Johnson.

"Juliet, do you mind if I had a word with you?" she asked. Her eyes were wide in what looked like a pleading expression.

I was taken aback. Angelina and I hadn't spoken directly to each other in months. We had been on far from decent terms when we had last seen each other.

I considered her for half a second, before I gave her a curt nod and followed her back out into the hallway outside of the dormitories. Katie shot me a puzzled look before heading in to face Alicia alone.

"What is it?" I asked. I surprised myself when I didn't feel anger toward the girl. It seemed after everything else that had happened, the petty rivalry between Angelina and I had been put into perspective. It was unnecessary for us to behave uncivilly toward each other, even after everything she had done to me.

"I wanted to propose that we start fresh," she said quickly, as if she were nervous to be speaking to me about it. "I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch captain," she said, "and I know we'll be spending a lot of time together. I want you to know that I'm sorry for what I did. I would like us to put it in the past."

I gawked up at her for a moment, and then shook my head.

"What are you talking about…Gryffindor captain?"

She stared uncertainly at me for a moment, as though she was trying to figure out if I was going to snap at her or not.

"I spoke to Professor McGonagall about it…you didn't want the position, did you?" she asked, sounding hesitant.

I shook my head. "No, no I didn't," I said quickly. In fact, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. "But…you're a Chaser. We've already got three Chasers."

"Oh," Angelina said, "Alicia hasn't told you."

"Told me what?" I questioned, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"She's decided not to play."

I gaped at her in shock.

"_What_? What do you mean she's not going to play?!"

"They weren't her exact words," Angelina said, "but I think it has to do with what Harry's been saying…about You-Know-Who."

"Don't tell me you don't believe him either," I said, feeling exasperated.

"Of course I believe him," she said quickly, "but Alicia doesn't. Says she doesn't want to be on a team of people who are going against the Ministry."

I stared at her in horror.

"She told you this?"

She nodded. "She owled me this summer…said there would be a position open if I wanted my spot on the team back."

"She owled you?" I questioned, shaking my head in disbelief. "None of us heard a word from her all summer."

Angelina shook her head as well, looking uncomfortable.

"I don't know what's gotten in to her," she said.

I exhaled loudly and pushed a hand to my forehead in frustration.

"I've got to go talk to her," I said, moving to push the door open again.

Angelina moved to stop me, and I remembered why she had called me out there in the first place.

"Er, right," I said uncomfortably. "As for us…I'm good if you're good."

Angelina gave me a half-smile and nodded.

"I'm good," she said.

I nodded once, and then lead the two of us back into the dormitory.

"And congrats on making captain," I said.

She grinned, and I felt oddly happy to know that we might be able to call ourselves _friends_ once again.

Of course, where one door opens…

-------

Dolores Umbridge is a cow.

She is the single most foul and despicable excuse for a human being that I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. She is by far the worst professor I have ever encountered at Hogwarts…and that's a steep hill to climb considering the load of tossers the school has seen throughout the years. I hate her more than I hate Snape. No, I'm completely serious.

It was during the first Defence Against the Dark Arts class that the extent of her horridness was portrayed to the student body…in particular Fred, George, Katie, Lee, and myself. Angelina held a strong distaste for her, too, but seen as she hadn't been fully reunited with the group, she was still a bit on the outskirts. As for Alicia…well, Katie and I never truly got around to talking to her. She had been asleep when we made it up to the dormitory. I suppose that conversation would have to wait until later.

Umbridge opened class by announcing to the seventh years that Defence Against the Dark Arts was going to be strictly theory during her reign as professor.

She didn't get very far into her little "welcoming" speech before she was quite suddenly interrupted.

"What do you mean we won't be learning any spells?!" Fred spoke up, outraged.

"Excuse me, Mr…" Umbridge paused to look down at what I assumed to be a class list, "Mr. Weasley…you _will_ be learning spells in my class, just as they should be learned—from your text. And I do not permit speaking out in class."

She tutted at him and straightened her back, as if to be authoritative. It was a role that she was not going to be able to manage easily, that's for certain.

"Hem, hem. You are correct, however. This class will involve theory, but your wands shall not be necessary to complete this term," she said in her ridiculous squeaky voice.

"How is that any bloody help at all?" I questioned angrily. It wasn't really like me to get so heated right out of the gate, but something about this woman really bothered me. Plus, lately my anger lay very close to the surface. It didn't take much to set me off. "We'll never know how to _use_ any of the spells unless we practise them! You can't honestly expect us to learn—"

She smiled grimly at me. "There is no reason for you to need to use any spells learned in my class," she stated simply.

"I can think of a good reason," I cut in.

"Yeah, how 'bout…I don't know…_to fight Dark Magic_?" Fred said sarcastically. "That's why it's called Defence Against the Dark Arts, isn't it?"

Umbridge was beginning to look flustered and angry.

"Mr. Weasley," she said sternly, "who on earth are you expecting to defend yourself against?"

"I can think of a few possibilities," Katie spoke up, and Umbridge snapped her eyes toward her instead. Cleary, I wasn't the only one who didn't like this woman. It definitely wasn't like Katie to mouth off to a teacher.

"Yeah," Lee jumped in, "with _You-Know-Who_ out and about again, there's bound to be plenty of chances for us to use our defence skills."

She opened her mouth to say something, her face steaming with anger, when George jumped in.

"Unless of course you'd rather see us all get blown to smithereens. In that case your method will probably work just fine."

"That is ENOUGH!" she screeched. "There will be no more speaking out of turn!"

All five of our hands shot into the air at once, and immediately we all began talking over each other angrily.

"How can you possibly expect us to learn—?"

"What's the use—?"

"—bloody ridiculous—"

"Hem, hem!" she squealed. "The next person to speak without being addressed will receive detention."

The group of us simultaneously clenched our jaws and fists in anger. We exchanged disbelieving looks, silently debating whether or not it was worth it to continue to fight with the horrible woman. We opted to bide our time, and settled for glaring up at Umbridge in disgust and loathing.

She put on an obviously forced, sickly-sweet look and smiled round at all of us.

"I must say, I did not expect such foolishness from a class as adult as you, but it seems the air must be cleared. I will say this once, and once only…" I was well-aware by then that the sound of her voice was going to drive me insane for the term. "Now, as everyone is well aware, there have been rumours about the return of a certain dark wizard."

She had everyone's attention, and Lee, Katie, Fred, George and I glared at her in suspicion.

"I want to assure all of you that these rumours are just that—_rumours_—"

"Just rumours?!" Fred roared.

"Not another word!" she screeched, realizing at once that the other four of us had jolted forward in our seats and our mouths had opened in protest.

She stared around at all of us with obvious distaste, and I marvelled at the fact that no one else in the class seemed at all outraged by what the woman was saying…aside from Angelina, but she hadn't moved to speak up about it. I was well-aware of the silence and anger radiating from Alicia two seats down from my right, and I tried to ignore the eyes on me from all angles of the room.

"Mr. Weasley…detention!"

"He didn't do anything!" Katie yelled.

"Miss Bell, would you like to join him?" Umbridge drawled.

"If he goes, we all go," Lee spoke up.

She looked pointedly at his determined face before studying the rest of us. I wasn't sure exactly what it was about the woman that made us all so set on sticking together against her, but I was certain she was against us, and none of us were prepared to let her spread lies.

"Well now," she said cheerily. "It looks as though I'm going to have to split this group up. A bit troublesome all together like this."

"No need," George said suddenly. "We're leaving."

Umbridge looked as though she was going to stop us, but she seemed to rethink it as the five of us all rose together and threw our bags over our shoulders. I was certain our stand wasn't going to go unnoticed by Professor McGonagall, and even more certain that it would be in vain. We were surely going to get into some sort of trouble by walking out during a class…but we were all so hot with anger that none of us cared as we stormed out of the room.

I could hear the mumbles and whispers from our classmates as we left. I smirked a little at the fact that she'd have trouble calming the class down after that. Of course, my self-righteousness was very short-lived. It was positive we had just gotten ourselves into more trouble than was healthy.

"She's planning something," Fred said immediately after the door had slammed shut behind us. The five of us hurried away from the room, not wanting to get caught in the corridors during class time.

"What do you reckon it is?" Lee asked.

Fred led the group of us in the direction of the kitchens. The rest of us followed obediently behind him, wanting to get away from the eyes of any passers-by.

"I think we've got to find out," George said. The rest of us nodded in agreement.

"Definitely," Katie agreed.

"Any ideas?" Lee asked.

I had one immediately, but I wasn't about to share it with the entire group. Neither Katie nor Lee knew about the fact that I was an Animagus, and I intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. The fewer people who knew, the better…even Katie and Lee might accidentally let the information slip.

Fred looked at me pointedly as if reading my mind, and spoke up.

"Well, considering I have detention with the old toad, how 'bout I do some snooping around in her office?" he offered as the five of us piled into the kitchens quickly.

None of us were much in the mood for eating, but Lee sent the house elves off with a list anyway, only to be polite as we all put our heads together, determined to come up with a plan.

"Won't it be hard to snoop around while she's in the room?" Katie asked.

George and Fred smirked at her. "Oh my dear Katie," Fred said, shaking his head. "How little you know about my stealth and cunning."

"So…Fred will do the snooping, what do we lot do until then?" Lee questioned.

"I reckon we should probably try not to cause a scene like that again," I said, although I had deeply enjoyed walking out on the horrid woman. "I bet she was sent by the Ministry to spy on Dumbledore…you heard what Sirius and your dad said," I pointed out to the twins.

"The Ministry is trying to spy on Dumbledore?" Katie asked.

I nodded. I had forgotten the two of them didn't know as much about You-Know-Who's return as we did.

"Fudge thinks Dumbledore's up to something," George said. "So it makes sense that he'd send someone to keep tabs on him."

"So it wouldn't be wise for us to get on her bad side…although it seems we've already managed to," I said with a grimace. "She's going to be suspicious of the whole lot of us now."

"Especially since she knows we believe Harry's story," Lee pointed out. The rest of us frowned grimly.

"We could get ourselves into a lot of trouble," I said. "The Ministry is really keen on pretending like nothing's wrong. I wouldn't be surprised if they had us all removed from school for sullying the minds of young students."

"Well what's that Umbridge woman going to do to us anyway?" Katie asked, looking round at all of us. "It's not like she can punish us for believing what Harry and Professor Dumbledore said. We haven't done anything wrong."

"We'll just have to make sure we keep it that way," I said. "Or at least…don't let her find out what we're up to."

"And if she does, what's the toad-woman going to do about it?" George asked. "She can't do any worse to us than putting us in detention with Filch…and we've all been there."

We all laughed, feeling more at ease after talking out our seemingly ridiculous fears of the woman. There was no way she'd be able to do any harm to any of us. After all, she _did_ dress all in pink. How much damage could she do?

…

Oh, if we had only known.

-------

Predictably, the whole lot of us were called in to speak to Professor McGonagall once she caught wind that we had walked out during Defence class. I was mildly surprised that she asked to speak to all of us at the same time rather than splitting us up, but I was under the impression that good ol' Minerva McGonagall wasn't too fond of our resident powder puff, either. Even so, the lot of us were called into her office after dinner that night.

"Take a seat, all of you," she said to us curtly after ushering us all in and closing the door firmly.

The five of us did as we were told, all lowering into our prospective chairs. I scrutinized Professor McGonagall's face. She didn't look angry.

"It's been brought to my attention that the five of you were speaking out of turn in Professor Umbridge's classroom," she said. Her voice sounded tired…almost annoyed, but it didn't seem to be directed at us. "You…challenged her method of teaching, and implied the Dark Lord was back in power…is that correct?"

"She deserved to be challenged," Fred said, speaking first.

"And the Dark Lord _is _back," George said.

"And she's a cow," I put in.

The others nodded in agreement.

McGonagall sighed, and gave me a look that warned me to keep my opinions to myself.

"I would have thought as seventh years, the five of you would have more sense than to go against a teacher," she said, her tone still unusually unprofessional. I was quite certain she wasn't going to punish us for what we had done.

"She got us worked up," I explained. "We know it was stupid."

"Well you are going to have to keep your collective anger in check," she said sternly. "As it stands, Mr. Weasley is the only one who received a detention. You are very lucky you were her first class of the day. She grew much less understanding with students in later classes."

"Who—?" I started.

"Mr. Potter found himself in a similar situation," she said curtly. "And I'll tell you exactly what I told him. You must tread carefully while dealing with Dolores Umbridge. You can't afford to be reckless with her."

"Is it true?" Fred asked. "Is she here to spy on Dumbledore?"

McGonagall looked mildly taken aback, but quickly recovered. She was dealing with some of the most mischievous minds in Hogwarts. It couldn't be _too_ surprising that we had figured out what she was doing here.

"Clearly all of you have got your heads on straight," she said, looking round at all of us. "But I urge you…do keep your tempers in check. Dolores Umbridge can do far worse damage to you than dealing out a few detentions. Do you understand?"

"Keep our heads down," Lee said. It was strange coming from him. Lee didn't tend to be the voice of reason in these situations, but we all knew he was right.

"Precisely, Mr. Jordan," McGonagall agreed. "Let's not have another outburst. Just do as she says and stay under her radar."

We all nodded grudgingly. It wasn't good news to any of us to know we had to bow down to the toad woman. She certainly deserved all of the hardship she got. But Professor McGonagall was right. It was in our best interests to stay out of her way…especially since she was working for the Ministry.

"You are all free to leave," McGonagall dismissed. "Mr. Weasley, please ensure you are on time for your detention tomorrow night."

Fred didn't give a reply as we all rose from our seats and began to trudge out of the office.

"I do not wish to have to speak to any of you about this again," Professor McGonagall said. "Let's try and enjoy your last year, shall we?"

I snickered a little, but didn't reply. Katie offered a polite "thanks, Professor", and the lot of us were once again conversing in the corridor.

"I reckon McGonagall's not too fond of Umbridge," Lee said.

"Who would be?" Katie asked. "Do you think she'll actually split us up in class?"

"Of course she will," I answered. "Can't have the lot of us stirring up any more trouble."

The others grumbled in response as we wandered back toward the common room.

George was the first to break out of the slump. He rolled his eyes. "I think we're in need of some cheering up. What d'you think, mate, reckon any new blood have signed up to be our guinea pigs?" he asked Fred.

Fred's mood immediately lightened.

"George, you always know just what to say," he answered with a wide grin.

When the lot of us made it back up to the Gryffindor common room, there was indeed a group of eagerly waiting first and second years gathered around the notice board. I very nearly pitied them. They had absolutely no idea what they were getting themselves into.

"Excellent!" Fred and George said enthusiastically.

"Need help?" Lee asked, looking hopeful, eyeing the younglings with a bizarre kind of blood-lust.

"You're always welcome," George answered. "You in, Jules?"

"Of course," I replied with a cheeky grin. "Someone's got to be the brains behind the operation."

"I'll watch from the sidelines I think," Katie said, throwing a teasing look at the twins. "I want to see the look on Hermione's face when she catches you lot."

"Seems like a good way to break the new Prefect in," I said with an evil sort of smirk.

"Ooh, perhaps Ron'll come around and try to discipline you," Lee said eagerly.

"That'd definitely be worth watching," Katie said with a grin. "Perhaps he'll give you detention. Two in one day, Fred. And on the first day back, no less. That'd be a record even for you."

Fred waved off Katie's comment then clapped his hands together authoritatively as she wandered over to take a seat in one of the squashy armchairs.

"Alright, let's get down to business," he announced. "Lee and Juliet, you two get started with the group. Have them sign these release forms."

Fred yanked a handful of crinkled parchment out of his cloak pocket and handed them to me. "George and I will gather the rest of the supplies."

"Be back in a jiff," George said with an enthusiastic wink.

Lee cleared his throat, leading the way to the group of anxious students lingering in the corner of the room. They tensed when we neared, and our faces split into wide grins.

"Good evening!" Lee greeted cheerily, immediately taking the lead. "My name's Lee Jordan and this here is Juliet Christie. We're associates of Fred and George Weasley. I assume you all know why you're here?"

I chuckled at Lee's professionalism. He certainly was well-spoken.

The students exchanged wary looks with each other before a small boy with dirty blonde hair and crooked teeth stepped forward. Apparently he had been elected spokesperson for the group.

He extended his hand first to Lee, and then to myself.

"My name's Aaron," he said.

"Nice to meet you, Aaron," Lee greeted. "And hello to the rest of you as well."

"The sign said we'll be getting paid," he said immediately, interrupting the various "hellos" being offered to us from the other girls and boys.

"Ah, straight to the point, very good," Lee complimented. "Yes, you will be getting paid for your efforts. But before we get to that, we need everyone to sign a copy of this form."

"Fred and George will be handling the payments," I explained. "I'm sure they'll get to it in good time."

I handed out forms to the thirteen young boys and girls as Lee savoured his power over them. It was short-lived, however, because Fred and George launched themselves back down the stairs just as I was collecting up the release forms again.

"Ah, good," Fred said, "you've got everything rolling. Thanks, Lee, I'll take it from here."

Lee stepped aside graciously, awaiting instruction from George.

"It's a good looking group we've got here, George," Fred said, surveying the lot. "I think this will work out just fine. Hello everyone, thank you for coming. As you've probably already guessed, I'm Fred Weasley, and this is my brother George. Does anyone have any questions before we get started?"

A frightened-looking girl with short, curly brown hair raised her hand timidly from the back of the group.

"Yes, you there in the back," Fred said, pointing to her.

"Um…" the girl cleared her throat nervously. "The form said what we're doing is potentially dangerous…we're not going to be doing anything…_scary_ are we?"

"Certainly not scary," George assured her. "The forms are just a precaution. Everything we test on you has already been tested by Fred and myself, as well as Juliet and Lee here."

"Then what do you need us for?" the boy called Aaron asked, a little defiantly.

"We have to see whether everyone has the same reaction," Fred answered easily. "Anyway, the point is you've got nothing to worry about."

Fred went ahead giving instructions to the group, and George turned to Lee and me.

"Juliet, you can record observations," he instructed, handing me a clipboard. "Fred and I will dictate."

"What do I do?" Lee asked.

"You'll be on pulse-check," George said cheerfully.

My eyes widened a little bit.

"Just a precaution," George assured me. "We're not going to kill them on their first day of school."

"Of course," I said sarcastically. "We'll leave that for their fourth or fifth day."

"If they're lucky," George joked. "Alright, looks like Fred's already getting started."

"Excellent," I said, watching as Fred handed each of the first and second years a colourfully-wrapped sweet.

"What is this going to do to us?" a blonde boy asked as he eyed the sweet suspiciously.

"Merlin, for a group of volunteers you lot certainly are reluctant," George said.

"We can't tell you that," Fred answered, "because we have to ensure the reaction is legitimate. But I promise you its safe."

I looked on in amusement as they all stared warily up at Fred. I was a little amazed as they all began popping the sweets into their mouths. If it had been me, I doubt I would ever trust the Weasley twins.

They all sat, munching with expectant looks on their faces before one by one, each of them slumped over in their seats and passed out. Lee and I laughed openly as Fred and George surveyed the crew with thoughtful looks on their faces.

Lee immediately began checking on each of the individuals, announcing with a pleased expression that each of them seemed fine.

On-lookers chuckled in appreciation as I began to write down what George was dictating to me.

"Fainting Fancies, test group one of thirteen students aged eleven to thirteen, all reacted successfully," he said. "Regular dosage," he added.

"That's quite good," Fred commented. "I sort of expected at least one would react badly—not that I'm complaining, mind. I wouldn't actually enjoy causing damage to a first year."

"You should have thought of this a long time ago," Lee said. "It would have saved us the torment of testing your products for you."

"And they're getting a better deal, too," I said. "We never got paid for it."

"Just because we didn't offer you money doesn't mean you didn't get paid," Fred said with a cheeky wink that oddly enough caused me to blush. He noticed, and reacted by grinning widely. My good mood must have been shining through, because I couldn't do anything but grin back at him in response.

"How long 'til we wake them?" Lee questioned, reclaiming both mine and Fred's attention. He prodded one of the boys who was starting to drool on his shoulder.

Fred opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted.

"That's enough!"

The four of us looked over to see Hermione approaching. She looked positively livid.

Fred and George eyed her with mild surprise.

"Yeah, you're right," George said with a nod, looking at me, "this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?"

I nodded in agreement and jotted it down on the parchment I was holding.

"I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students!"

"We're paying them!" Fred said indignantly.

"I don't care, it could be dangerous!" Hermione said. She was very clearly outraged.

"Rubbish," Fred disagreed.

"Calm down, Hermione, they're fine!" Lee said, as he walked around to each of the passed-out first and second years and began placing the purple counterpart sweets into their open mouths.

"Yeah, look, they're coming round now," George said.

Several of them were now stirring, beginning to sit up in their seats. They all looked shocked and confused. I held back a laugh. Others in the common room were openly chuckling, now.

"Feel all right?" George asked kindly to a dark-haired girl who was lying on her back at his feet.

"I—I think so," she answered shakily.

"Excellent," Fred exclaimed.

Hermione reached out and snatched his bag of Fainting Fancies from his hands, grabbing his clipboard at the same time.

"It is NOT excellent!"

"'Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?" Fred pointed out angrily.

"You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?"

"We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same—"

"If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to—"

"Put us in detention?" Fred asked.

He and George exchanged _I'd-like-to-see-her-try_ glances with Lee and me.

"Make us write lines?" George said with a smirk.

Nearly everyone in the room was laughing now, aside from Ron who seemed to be hiding in his chair. Katie was looking on with an amused I-told-them-so look, but she was certainly enjoying herself.

"No," Hermione said, her voice quivering with anger, "but I will write to your mother."

I quirked my eyebrow at her in surprise. Hermione knew how to play.

"You wouldn't," George said, sounding horrified. He took a step back from her.

"Oh, yes I would," she said. "I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not to give them to the first years."

Fred and George eyed her furiously. She glared back threateningly, before thrusting the clipboard and paper bag back into Fred's arms. She turned to rejoin Harry and Ron by the fire, but not before sending me a disapproving look as well.

I shrugged.

"You know you'll never stop them, Hermione."

She glared at me, but didn't reply. I had a feeling she knew I was right.

-------

Although Hermione seemed to have temporarily shut down the progress we were making with _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_, by the end of the day I was feeling a lot more cheerful than I had in the morning. Of course, my good moods tend not to last long these days. This one was no different.

I was one of the last to head up for bed. I stuck around a little longer to stare into the fire. My mind was wandering again, back to Cedric and Peter Pettigrew and the evil that lurked in the wizarding world at the moment. It wasn't until Fred and George announced they were going to bed that I realized everyone else had already gone, too.

As I trudged my way up the stairs, I heard angry voices coming from my dormitory. I immediately recognized the voices as Katie and Alicia. I scowled at the sound of their arguing, and wasted no time in hurrying into the room to support Katie. I felt a little guilty that she had had to face her alone.

"Alicia, what is going on with you?" Katie was asking incredulously.

Alicia stood at the far end of the room, looking angrily at Katie. Angelina was seated on her four-poster bed with wide eyes. All three of them looked to me upon my entrance. I bit down on my lower lip and stared at them quietly.

I was uncertain what I should say, so I opted for "What's going on?"

"Alicia has left the Quidditch team," Katie said fiercely. I frowned. I had failed to tell the others about that today. I was a little preoccupied with Dolores Umbridge at the time. "She's quit because she doesn't want to be around the lot of us anymore."

"Why would I?" Alicia countered. "You've all made yourselves known for being disloyal to the Ministry. Why would I want to be friends with people who are looking to disrupt the wizarding world?"

My jaw dropped a little bit. This was the first time I had spoken to Alicia since before Cedric died, and _this_ was how she was greeting me? This was how she was going to start off the school year? My good mood had instantly vanished.

"Disrupt the wizarding world?" I repeated, my voice disbelieving.

"She reckons we're all in on some plot of Dumbledore's to overthrow the Ministry," Katie said sarcastically.

"And I'm supposed to believe that You-Know-Who is back in power and is hiding in the shadows, am I?" Alicia asked. Her voice was equally sarcastic.

"How can you not believe he's back?" I asked incredulously.

"If he were back, why in the name of Godric would he be hiding?" Alicia asked. "If he were back the world would be in chaos by now."

"The world _is_ in chaos," I disagreed. "We've been completely divided. It's exactly what he wanted."

"Right," she said. "It makes perfect sense that he would return, not kill Harry Potter, and then stay hidden and not make a move. If he's back then he's strong enough to take over the Ministry."

"So is Dumbledore," Katie countered. "If he wanted to, he'd have done it by now."

"Maybe he was waiting for you lunatics to show you'd support him when he did it," Alicia said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, shaking my head in irritation. "This has nothing to do with Dumbledore."

"This has everything to do with Dumbledore," Alicia disagreed. "You-Know-Who is not back. It's just a clever ruse by Dumbledore to get everyone to think the Ministry has failed. That way he'll be free to step in and take charge."

"Oh, of _course_," I said sarcastically. The anger was definitely building up stronger than ever. "And Cedric just dropped dead of his own accord, did he?"

"I don't know what happened to Cedric," she said, "because Harry Potter neglected to tell us all the truth."

"What he told us was precisely the truth," Katie said. "You-Know-Who is back and Cedric was murdered by the Death Eaters!"

"And you're going to believe some stupid boy with a sick need for attention," Alicia sneered.

Angelina's eyes were wide as she watched the three of us. She looked uncertain whether she should say anything or continue to keep quiet. It looked as though she wanted to say something, but sensed perhaps she shouldn't. I didn't really blame her. This was ugly enough as it was.

"Are you listening to yourself?" I said. "You're not making any sense!"

"It's not my fault the two of you are completely delusional!" Alicia snapped. "I mean, I can understand why Juliet's being unreasonable. She'd believe anything that would help her get through Cedric's death, but _you_, Katie…"

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. Angelina and Katie were wearing similar expressions of shock. I was downright outraged.

"What did you just say?" I asked, my tone low and menacing.

"I don't blame you, Juliet," she said in a patronizing tone. "It's understandable that you're not in your right mind."

I very nearly lost it. I rubbed the sides of my head with both of my hands and focused all of my energy toward staying calm.

"You honestly believe the bullshit your father is feeding you?" I asked through clenched teeth.

She glared daggers at me.

"And quitting the Quidditch team just to get away from us," I continued heatedly, ignoring the way her eyes were bulging unpleasantly. "You've been our friend since _first year_, Alicia. How in the name of Merlin can you just disregard six years of friendship like that?"

"It's you who have disregarded your loyalties," she spat. "The Ministry has been watching out for all of us since before we were born, and suddenly you think you're better than them. It's disgusting."

"What's disgusting is how ridiculously mindless you've become!" Katie shouted. "Harry lied about Cedric's death? Are you kidding me?!"

Alicia glared defiantly at us.

"You know what, I'm not getting into this with you," she said harshly. "If you want to delude yourself into believing You-Know-Who is back and out to get all of us, then fine. You can live your lives in idiotic fear. You'll be the ones who come out looking like idiots when he doesn't show up."

"What?!" I said. "Do you think we actually _want_ him to be back? We didn't ask for this to happen, Alicia. But it did. You-Know-Who _is_ back."

She shook her head angrily.

"I'm not having any more of this. I'm going to bed," she said.

Katie and I didn't have a chance to say anything more to her, because she shut herself in her four-poster bed, pulling the curtain around her forcefully. She even made a show of putting a silencing charm around her to cut herself off from us completely.

I glared at the curtain surrounding her bed, having half a mind to rip it down and scream at her until my face turned blue.

The three of us who remained sat silently. The fight with Alicia hung heavily in the air. I was certain everyone in the tower had heard it, and I knew Fred and George would have immediately known it was us.

Katie was the first to break the silence as she tugged her sheets down to climb into bed with more force than necessary.

"Bloody idiot," she muttered, shaking her head. "You'll talk to George?" she asked me.

I nodded, moving to yank my pyjamas out of my trunk for bed.

"He's better off without her," I replied bitterly.

"He is," Katie agreed. She extinguished the lantern on the windowsill next to her bed and punched her pillow before laying her head down on it.

"Night Juliet, night Ang," she said. I could tell it was hard for her to keep her voice steady.

"Night Kates," I answered, just as Angelina replied with an awkward: "Goodnight."

I didn't say anything more, but dressed in an angry silence. I couldn't believe after everything we had been through that Alicia could say those things to me and Katie. Aside from being unbelievably angering, it also truly hurt. It seemed everything was going to continue to get worse before it got any better.

I was certain as I crawled into bed that night that the friendship between Alicia and I would never be the same again.

-------

**A/N:** Reviews are my motivation!


	6. Bloodshed and Betting

**A/N**: I realized something interesting a few days ago. I was watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and noticed the name "Julie Christie"—the British actress who played Madame Rosmerta in the film (among many other things) within the credits. It was totally coincidental that I'd use her name (almost) in my story only to realize she was actually in one of the Harry Potter movies. Just thought that was cool!

There's a lot more Fred in this chapter than there has been so far in this story. I've had a few people ask if Juliet and Fred are going to get together soon. Let's just say you should stick around for the next couple of chapters…

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the Harry Potter series, belong to JK Rowling.

* * *

**- CHAPTER FIVE -**

_Bloodshed and Betting_

Juliet Christie

"Are you ready?"

Fred looked at me expectantly as he threw his cloak over his shoulders.

He, George and I had developed a quick plan to invade Umbridge's office. Because Fred had detention, it was obvious that he was going to be given access to the room. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that Umbridge was going to leave him alone unattended. That didn't give him any time to snoop around and  
find out what she was up to.

And that's where I came in.

Fred was going to sneak me into the room and leave me there. I was then to wait for Umbridge to leave—hiding unseen, behind a bookcase or under her desk—and as soon as she was gone, I'd be free to shuffle through her belongings.

Simple enough, right?

"What if she finds me?" I asked. "She works for the Ministry. They know I'm an Animagus."

"They don't hold conferences every time a new Animagus gets on the list," Fred assured me. "It's likely she doesn't know."

Of course, neither of us was completely certain about that fact. For all we knew, Fudge had sent Umbridge in with a warning about me. I wouldn't have put it past the sod, seen as how paranoid he continued to be about Dumbledore. Perhaps he thought I may do some spying on his behalf. I bet Umbridge was keeping a close eye on Professor McGonagall, then.

In any case, what we were doing was extremely risky. If we were found out, we'd be in a lot of trouble. I had to admit the plan was dangerous, but that wasn't about to stop me from going through with it. If we could find out vital information about Umbridge it would be well worth the risk.

"So, you ready?" Fred repeated, straightening himself up.

"I'm ready," I confirmed, double-checking to ensure I had my wand secured in my pocket.

"Then let's get a move on, shall we?" he asked, a wide grin forming on his freckled face.

I rolled my eyes at him with a smirk and sank down into the cat-me.

I stared up at him for half a second before jumping up, clawing to his jeans and climbing up his side.

"Ouch! Julie, be careful!" he said as my claws dug into his flesh. I couldn't really help it. I had never really noticed what a tree Fred was. It wasn't easy to climb up him.

"You're going to have to try to stay still," he told me. "And stay under my arm. It'll be suspicious if I've got a hunchback."

I tucked myself under his left arm, letting my claws sink into his sweater. I scratched at him a little bit, just for fun, and he threatened to squish me.

"Watch it, Christie," he warned, readjusting his cloak so I wasn't obvious underneath. "George, look alright?"

I couldn't see anything beneath the dark fabric, but I could hear George's approval from elsewhere in the room.

"Perfect," he said.

"Alright, hang tight, Juliet," Fred said. "Off we go."

The short trip down to Umbridge's office was uncomfortable. I clung to Fred's clothing securely, but I came close to falling with every stride he took. I knew he was getting tired from holding his arm up and over me, but if he moved he threatened to give us both away. It was lucky the long, black cloaks we  
wore around Hogwarts offered little in terms of shape. It wasn't difficult to keep me hidden from view under there.

"Here we go," he said quietly, and I knew we were near the office. It became quite obvious that we had reached our destination when she began to speak.

"Right on time, Mr. Weasley," she said in her squeaky voice. I don't know if it was because I was in the form of a cat, but I suddenly realized she sounded exactly how I would expect a mouse to speak.

Fred didn't respond, but I sensed he was fighting hard not to lash out at her. Just being near her made my blood boil, and I was certain he held similar feelings toward her.

"If you'll come in," she said, "you're going to be writing lines for me this evening."

I could sense Fred fighting back the urge to scoff. I was rather impressed that he didn't make a smart-assed comment.

_Writing lines? Real original, Umbridge._

For Fred to keep his mouth shut meant he must have been taking Professor McGonagall's warning fairly seriously.

"I didn't bring a quill," Fred said to her.

"That's quite alright," she said. "I've got one I want you to use. Please, take a seat."

Sitting down was a little awkward, as I had to manoeuvre myself back down his side. Fred sat down, and I felt his hand guiding me, probably making sure I stayed out of Umbridge's sight. I couldn't see where she was in the room.

I heard her chair scrape the floor when she moved to sit down at her desk, and I knew she wouldn't be able to see me. I slid out from underneath Fred's cloak and dropped to the floor quietly. I needed to find a place to hide.

As soon as I made it out of the darkness of Fred's clothing I nearly retched at the sight of the office. The walls were adorned with disgusting pink lace and doily cloths. On the widest wall were a set of ornamental plates, each decorated with a particularly fluffy and foul-looking kitten. I was suddenly  
terrified for my well being. If Umbridge were to discover me, perhaps she'd wrap me up in a frilly bow and keep me on display.

_Cringe_.

I heard Umbridge slide parchment across her desk to Fred.

"Now, I want you to write: I must obey authority," she said in her falsely sweet voice.

Fred cleared his throat loudly to cover up the laugh he was stifling. Obeying authority was the last thing he was going to do. If this woman thought otherwise, then she obviously didn't know who she was dealing with.

"I haven't got any ink," he said.

"You won't be needing ink," she said pleasantly. I lifted my head up at Fred in curiosity. I couldn't see anything but his shoulders. His face was hidden by the awkward angle I was viewing him from.

I heard the scratch of the quill as Fred began writing, and seconds later heard his breathing intake sharply in pain.

My eyes widened in surprise and confusion. Fred's body had tensed up, and he had stopped writing.

"What is this?" Fred asked angrily, his voice tense.

"This is your punishment, Mr. Weasley," Umbridge answered pleasantly.

The room was silent for several long moments before I heard the quill scratching on parchment once again.

My head was spinning in confusion. What was going on?

I clawed gently at the bottom of Fred's jeans, hoping he'd somehow be able to tell me what was happening. Very slowly and carefully, Fred lifted his left arm off of the desk, and lowered it down to his side. His hand dangled above my head, and he turned it, palm-up, to give me a view of the back of his hand.

I very nearly hissed, but I contained myself…only just.

As I listened to the scratching of the quill, Fred's message _I must obey authority _appeared etched into the skin on the back of his hand in his own untidy handwriting. Almost as soon as it appeared, it healed over again leaving a raw, red mark. I watched, horrified as the message repeated itself. It returned again and again, digging into his skin so the words were glowing red with his own blood before the skin sealed back up.

Fred took his hand away once he was certain I had understood what was going on.

I decided immediately I was no longer going through with the plan. There was no way I was going to stick around in the vile woman's office. As soon as she was finished torturing Fred I was going straight to Professor McGonagall so I could receive permission to murder toad-woman. She was not going to get away with it.

It took everything I had in me not to change back right there in the office and start smashing ornamental plates over her head. The woman was sick. Sick and twisted, and pure _evil_!

My temper was raging as I sat on the cold stone floor, trying desperately to contain myself.

I was very aware of how lucky it was that it was Fred in detention and not me. I didn't trust that my temper would have been controllable had the situation been reversed. Considering how easily set off I had grown over the past weeks, I was positive I would have done something rash in Fred's position.

Astoundingly, he was keeping himself quite cool.

I was certain, however, that his anger would show itself properly as soon as we got out of the room. Perhaps he'd join me in destroying kitten plates over Umbridge's fat head.

Unfortunately, Fred's detention dragged on for what must have been at least two hours. I couldn't hear anything coming from him, aside from the continuous scratch of quill on parchment, but I knew he was in pain. I sensed it more than anything, because I knew he wasn't willing to show weakness in front of  
Umbridge.

She must have finally decided he had had enough, because she stopped him and surveyed his hand.

"That will do for this evening," she said with a miniscule giggle that made me want to claw her eyes out. "I expect you will think twice before disobeying my orders again."

I hurried back up Fred's leg and gripped under his arm once more. I was surprised when he didn't try to nudge me off of his side. He must have known I wasn't going to stay behind after that.

Umbridge showed him out of the room, and I pictured the disgusting smile that she was surely wearing on her face. I worked hard not to dig my claws into Fred's flesh. It was difficult to achieve when I was imagining strangling her.

I knew as soon as we were away from her office, because Fred's demeanour changed entirely. His pace quickened, and his muscles tightened in rage. I wanted to talk to him, but I didn't risk being seen. Instead, I stayed put until we reached the common room and I leapt out from under his arm. I took off immediately toward the girls' staircase, not wanting to be seen by anyone in the common room, and stormed down the stairs moments later on two feet instead of four.

"Who the bloody hell does she think she is?" I demanded, grabbing hold of Fred's hand forcefully. He tried to yank himself free, but I wouldn't allow it.

"Why didn't you stay?" George asked under his breath, approaching the two of us with a look of surprise on his face.

"That foul, loathsome woman!" I growled. "Look what she did!"

I thrust Fred's hand into George's chest, and Fred snatched it back.

"What…?" George asked, eyeing Fred's hand in alarm. "What happened?"

Fred's hand was rough and bleeding. It was near impossible to tell what was spelled out in his flesh—the skin was far too reddened and angry looking. The sight of it had me further fuelled with rage. Katie and Lee had come over to see what was going on. They looked on in bafflement.

"Lines," Fred said with a clenched jaw, "written in my own blood."

George's eyes widened in horror. Katie and Lee's expressions were similar.

"That bloody toad!" George exclaimed. "Does she have any idea who she's dealing with?"

"I'll kill her," I said angrily, feeling more enraged than I would have thought possible. It seemed these days revenge was constantly on my mind. I gritted my teeth together.

"_We'll _kill her," George corrected. He was sporting an uncharacteristically ugly look on his face similar I'm sure to the one I was wearing.

"No," Katie said, being the voice of reason. "Remember what McGonagall said. We have to behave ourselves. Keep our heads down."

"We can't just let her get away with this!" I objected.

"What are we going to do?" Fred asked, shoving his hand in his pocket to keep our eyes off of the bloody wound. "Kate's right. Backlash won't get us anywhere."

George and I fixed Fred with a disbelieving stare. Neither of us said anything. He was right, obviously, but it didn't make sense coming from him. Fred was never one to back down from a fight.

"I think the best course of action is for us to lay low," Katie suggested.

George and I exchanged disapproving looks. It seemed he was the only other person who seriously wanted to take action.

"For now," Lee amended, seeing our unhappy expressions.

I huffed. I was fuming.

"For now," I agreed.

"Good," Katie said, "Because I certainly don't want to get whatever punishment she gave to you."

"That can't possibly be allowed," I said with an angry shake of my head.

"Of course it isn't," George said. "If it were, Filch would have been using it on us for years."

The heated discussion came to a sudden halt when Angelina showed up. She cleared her throat and spoke to us confidently, although I could tell from her expression that she was a bit wary of addressing us all at once.

"I just wanted to let you know—seen as you're all together—that Quidditch tryouts for a new Keeper will be taking place on Friday," she said.

She looked round at all of us, but seemed to avoid meeting George's gaze. It took me a moment to realize why, and when I had, I scolded myself.

I hadn't spoken to George yet about Alicia quitting the team. My mind had been too preoccupied.

Dammit, Juliet.

"Do we know who the hopefuls are?" Lee asked.

"A few people have spoken to me about it," she replied. "But we won't know who's serious until Friday when they show up."

None of us responded, then, and things began to grow awkward. I was too focussed on figuring out what I was going to say to George after this to worry about the group dynamic.

"Anyway," Angelina said, clearing her throat again. "I just wanted to let you know. You're all expected to be there. Then, once we've got our Keeper chosen, regular practices can start up."

It was only then that I realized that Lee and George were both eyeing me curiously. I suppose they had suspected Angelina and I were still on rocky terms. We weren't exactly friends, but our feud had definitely died out. It was a good thing, because I wasn't sure I could handle sharing a dormitory with two Alicias at the moment. Things were awkward enough as it was… and I still needed to speak to George about the matter.

"We'll be there," I assured Angelina, my mind distracted with thoughts about approaching George.

"Great," she answered. "I'm off to bed, I think. I'll see you upstairs."

I nodded in response.

"I'll come," Katie said, and Lee and George exchanged confused looks as she followed Angelina up the stairs to the dormitory.

"What's going on?" Lee questioned.

"Angelina offered up a truce," I said with a shrug.

"Did you know?" Lee asked, fixing Fred with an accusing stare.

"No," he answered.

Fred's expression was just as perplexed as the other two, but I had a feeling he was confused about another matter entirely. I suspected he was confused about Angelina's appearance on the Quidditch team when we already had three Chasers. I had forgotten to tell either of the twins about Alicia leaving the team. I was starting to drop the ball.

I eyed Fred, and tried to be subtle as I signalled him. I tilted my head slightly toward George, and widened my eyes in hopes that he would understand.

He must have got the hint, because he pulled his hand back out from his pocket and examined it.

"Think I'll go tend to this," he said casually. "See you lot tomorrow."

"Night, Fred," I said.

He gave my shoulder a tight squeeze (with the hand that wasn't currently caked in drying blood). I took it to mean good luck, and wondered vaguely how on earth I had come to be the person who had to talk to George. It wasn't a job I had readily signed up for.

I cleared my throat once Fred's footsteps had died away on the staircase.

"Lee, you heading for bed too?" I asked, staring at him pointedly.

Lee glanced between George and me, and picked up on the hint immediately.

"Yes," he said, giving me a very obvious wink. "Yes I am."

I rolled my eyes as he slapped George on the back and gave me a nod before taking the stairs two at a time up to his room.

"Real subtle, Jules," George commented.

I grinned sheepishly at him.

He led the way over to the corner of the room where he sat himself down in one of the squashy armchairs there.

"I guess you were the lucky one elected to talk to me about Alicia," he said as I took a seat down across from him.

I let out a nervous laugh.

"Looks that way," I said.

"Okay, let's hear it then," he said, looking at me with polite expectancy. It was a little surprising.

I cleared my throat, feeling slightly anxious. I figured George must be upset, but he seemed very keen on hiding it. That was a bit unsettling. It made breaching the topic more difficult.

"She's quit the Quidditch team," I told him. I figured it was better to get it out in the open rather than prolonging the inevitable.

I eyed him warily, waiting for some sign of a reaction. He was terribly calm. It was unnerving.

"So I've heard," George said, remaining incredibly unaffected.

"You did?" I questioned, surprised.

"Katie let it slip," he said. "And even if she hadn't, I would have been able to figure it out after our chat with Angelina. It doesn't take a genius."

I nodded slowly. "Right. Well, did Katie tell you why?"

"She didn't have to," George said. "I can guess."

I felt extremely awkward looking at George then. I had always known he was the more reasonable of the two twins. He tended to think things through better. He was less rash. But George was also much harder to read. He wasn't one to let his emotions shine through. Fred was a lot easier to understand—his emotions lay much closer to the surface. With George, you had to work a little.

"George," I sighed. Although I hated having to be the one to get him to open up about Alicia, I knew it had to be done. Merlin knows Fred was never good at that sort of thing, and I was certain Lee wasn't to be trusted to help. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked.

"_George_," I stressed, "you're not fooling me."

He looked at me, and seemed to weigh his options. He sighed.

"She broke up with me," he said simply. "Over the summer, she sent me an owl."

"She did?" I questioned, confused. I had been under the impression that no one had had any contact with Alicia over the summer. Fred had assured me that he and George had heard nothing from her at all.

"I didn't say anything because there was enough going on without my problems getting in the mix," he said, answering my unasked question.

"Fred didn't know?" I asked.

He shook his head in response and I let out a breathy disbelieving sigh.

"George, you could have told us," I said.

"No, I couldn't have," he disagreed. "You've had enough to deal with, and Fred…"

His eyes met mine and I knew the rest of his sentence without him having to finish. Fred was too worried about me to have time to think about anything else.

"Well…you know," he finished with a shrug. "Anyway, Alicia knew that I was on Harry's side when it came to the whole You-Know-Who thing. And as soon as her father got the chance, he convinced her that I'm some betrayer of the Ministry."

I laughed humourlessly.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I told him. "She had a similar conversation with Katie and me."

"I heard," George answered dully. "In fact, I think all of Gryffindor heard that one."

I grimaced. Overhearing our argument certainly wouldn't have been fun for George.

"Yeah," he agreed, catching my frown. "You three were really at each other's throats there. Lee almost went to intervene. Although, I think he was hoping to catch some sort of cat-fight in action."

He smirked at his attempt at a joke. It didn't loosen me up much.

"Yeah, it didn't end too well," I told him. "She's got it in her head that we're all involved in some kind of conspiracy against the Ministry."

George grunted in response.

"She thinks the only reason I believe Harry is because it makes it easier to accept Cedric's death," I said, scowling at the memory of Alicia's words. "She says I have to blame someone, and I'd rather it be You-Know-Who than Dumbledore or Harry."

"I guess to her it makes sense," George said. "She spent all summer listening to her father's take on things…at some point she ended up believing him."

I didn't answer. I wondered if it would have made a difference to me if both of my parents had been on the side of Cornelius Fudge. Would they have been able to persuade me into thinking Harry was a liar?

No. No, that wasn't possible.

I had known Harry since his first year at school. I trusted him to tell the truth. I wouldn't doubt my friends as easily as Alicia seemed to.

George had grown silent. I stared at him for a moment as he looked off into space.

"So…are you okay?" I asked again.

He turned back to me. A smirk automatically appeared on his face.

"'Course I am," he assured me.

I wasn't convinced.

"I was chosen to talk to you for a reason," I said. "If I have to go back to the others and say that I failed, then next time you're going to have to deal with Fred or Lee."

George genuinely smiled.

"I guess I'd better not push my luck," he said cheekily.

"No, you shouldn't," I agreed.

George ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward in his seat. I leaned forward, too, and waited.

"I liked her," he said simply. "But I'm okay."

He leaned back in the squashy armchair and looked at me with an expression of finality.

"That's it?" I asked.

He shrugged. "There's not much more to say," he answered. "It's over. I'm fine."

I opened my mouth to interrupt that I didn't believe him, but he cut me off.

"I _promise_," he said strongly. His blue eyes were full of sincerity. "I've had plenty of time to deal with it. Sure it sucks, but I'm fine."

I eyed him a little longer, debating with myself whether to push the matter any further. It seemed I wasn't going to get anywhere with the topic any more.

"Okay," I said reluctantly. The whole conversation somehow seemed anti-climactic. "Well, if you need to talk…"

"Of course," he said, waving it off.

I was a little confused that George didn't seem to need my help. It seemed we had all deluded ourselves into thinking he needed to talk it out more than he actually did. He seemed genuinely fine. I was sure the whole situation with Alicia was upsetting him, but he seemed okay. I suppose the fact that he had spent all summer dealing with it had helped. The wound was no longer fresh, at least.

"Well…I guess I'm done, then," I said, making a face.

George laughed.

"Thanks for checking up on me," he said. "You really are much better at it than Fred."

I chuckled. I couldn't deny that.

"Fred's useless at talking," I said in good humour. "If there's anything I know, it's that."

"Yeah, well," George said with a shrug. "None of us Weasleys are very good with that sort of thing—none of us male Weasleys, that is."

At his comment, George made a nod toward the opposite corner of the room where Ron and Hermione sat bickering. I laughed again, letting my eyes settle upon the familiar sight. Those two were always at it.

"You two are good together, though," he said, catching me off-guard.

"Me and Ron?" I asked, my head spinning momentarily.

George crinkled up his face in disgust.

"Not _Ron_," he said, still grimacing, "Fred."

"Oh," I said. That made more sense. I frowned. "Right… Fred."

"Don't you think?" he pressed.

I eyed him suspiciously. Somehow George always managed to shift things so the heat was on me. Although, I suppose I owed it to him to answer his questions after all he had done for me since Cedric's death.

I sighed.

"I thought we were talking about you," I pointed out.

"We did," he told me. "And now it's your turn. You're not the only one who gets sent on missions, Jules."

I did a double take.

"What?" I asked.

"Ginny and Katie," he answered casually. "Somehow they thought you'd be more receptive to me than one of them."

I scowled.

"Ridiculous, I know," he said. "But I'm going to give it a try. So, don't you think the two of you are good together?"

I let out a frustrated groan. Go figure. I try to do something constructive in helping George with his problems, and it turns out my friends were out to get me all along.

I knew there wasn't any point in avoiding the conversation. I owed it to George to give him some answers. And I suppose if my friends were worried about me, I could afford to let them know what was going on.

"Sometimes I do," I answered, then shook my head. "But it's still too soon, you know?"

"Too soon!" George scoffed. "Juliet, I seem to recall badgering you about Fred two full years ago. And yet… here we are, still at it. How in Godric's name is that _too_ _soon_?"

I rolled my eyes.

"That's not what I meant, George."

"I know," he conceded, "but you get my point? I hate to see you put off the inevitable like this. Especially when—" he rolled his up to the ceiling, "—Merlin knows _why_—but Fred will make you happy."

I sighed again.

"I don't know that he will," I said. "Not now, anyway."

"You don't believe that," George accused. "You know he will."

"Okay, fine," I said, "but I can't do the same for him. Not yet."

"What are you talking about?" he asked incredulously. "Do you realize how long Fred has wanted you? He's been driving the rest of us bloody insane."

"George, I can't be with Fred just like that. It's more complicated than—"

"Complicated," George said sarcastically. "You're all about focusing in on the complications, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, feeling a little defensive. It sounded like George was trying to badger me, not help me.

"You're making this out to be more difficult than it actually is," he told me.

"How would you know?" I asked, scowling at him. "I was in love with Cedric, and he was murdered by You-Know-Who. That's not something I can just set aside!"

"I understand," George said calmly. "And if you really aren't ready for anything else then that's fine. But I don't think that's what's going on here."

"Oh really?" I challenged.

"I think you're putting off this thing with Fred _not_ because you need time to come to terms with Cedric's death, but because you are _fixating_on it."

Ouch. That hit home. George never ceased to amaze me with his intuitive skills.

"You think I'm purposely focusing on Cedric's murder?" I asked, feigning offence. I hadn't realized I had been so obvious.

Cedric's death had been almost all I could think about since it occurred. And after my talk with Harry…I spent half of my time inventing scenarios where I could avenge his death. I hoped no one was aware of exactly what was going through my head. Fred and George in particular would be positively furious with me.

"I haven't figured out why, exactly," George mused. "But, yeah."

"I guess I've just had a hard time," I said reluctantly. It was true, but it definitely wasn't the whole truth. In all honesty, if I ever got a shot at Peter Pettigrew…

"Wouldn't it make everything easier if you let things get back to normal?" George asked.

"_Normal_?" I questioned incredulously. "And what is normal, may I ask?"

"Maybe normal isn't the word I'm looking for," George said. "But the best way for you to get past Cedric's death is to move on from it."

"It's not fair to Fred if he gets stuck with an emotionally distraught girlfriend, though, is it?" I pointed out.

"Why are you focusing on all of the reasons why you shouldn't be with Fred?" he questioned. "What you should be doing is looking at why you _should_be with him."

George's expression was one of pure seriousness. It was a little scary. I knew he and Fred had been worrying about me for ages, but I hadn't realized the extent of it. It seemed he had grown accustomed to scrutinizing my actions. I knew he was just trying to look out for me…and for Fred, of course.

Maybe he was right, though. I knew no matter what happened, nothing was going to keep me from harbouring the desire to avenge Cedric Diggory. I wasn't sure if I would ever get the chance to act on it, but I was certain if it ever did arise that I couldn't trust myself to remain calm. But even so, perhaps George was right.

Maybe by moving forward with Fred my life could regain some of the stability it had lost when Cedric died. George had described our pending relationship as 'inevitable'. I couldn't deny that there seemed to be some truth to that. It was an undeniable fact that I had feelings for him. And part of me really wanted to be with him.

So maybe…

"What do you think, Jules?" George asked. He must have known he was getting through to me.

"When did you get so good at the whole talking thing?" I asked. "I thought you said none of the male Weasleys could handle it?"

"Practice," he said with a smirk. "Trust me, it doesn't come naturally."

I was quiet, pondering my options. George stared at me expectantly.

"You know I'm right," he said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, George," I gave in. "I'll give it some thought."

"Good," he said firmly, sounding pleased with himself. "Because Lee and I have got a wager going, and if you two don't get together by the end of this month, I owe him six Galleons!"

"George!"

"What?" he said innocently.

"So you came to talk to me for your own benefit, did you?" I asked, angrily.

"Of course not! Everything I said was true! I think you should be together—even if I have no idea what you see in him," he joked. "We just thought we'd make it interesting, is all."

I scowled at him.

"You know, I have half a mind to wait until the month's up just for that," I threatened.

"If you do it before the end of the month, I may be willing to split my winnings with you," he said casually.

"Perhaps I should see what kind of offer Lee would be willing to give before I make a decision," I said.

"Would it sway you to my side if I told you Fred is rooting for me to win, too?" he asked cheekily.

My eyes widened.

"Fred knows about your stupid bet?" I questioned, eyeing him sceptically.

"'Course he does. He shares a dormitory with us, doesn't he?"

"And you _told him_?" I asked incredulously.

"He overheard," George said with a shrug. "What's the big deal? Everyone's well aware of what's going on between the two of you. It's not like it's any surprise to Fred that we're all waiting for you to make a move."

I stared at him in shock, my mouth open just a tad in horror.

"I can't believe you're betting on me—and Fred knows!" I said.

"Don't worry, he stood up for you," George assured me. "Said you needed time and we should be respectful—" he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, "—it was quite a boring speech, actually. It surprised me. I didn't think Fred was capable of that kind of moral judgment."

I glared at him.

"You are disgusting," I said.

"Well it's lucky it's not me you're interested in," George responded cheekily.

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "Lucky."

"Well," George said, getting up from his seat. He stretched his arms up to the ceiling and yawned. "I think I'll go give Fred the good news. I'm sure he's aching to hear how this conversation went."

"George, don't you dare tell him anything," I warned. The last thing I needed was the pressure between Fred and me to heighten any more than it already was.

"I'm just going to mention in passing that his luck may be about to change," George said with a cheeky grin. "I'll let you deal with all the juicy details later."

"_George Weasley_," I threatened, getting up from my seat as he began to edge his way over to the staircase to the boys' dormitory.

He grinned widely at me as I took another step toward him. He responded by taking a step backward toward the staircase.

"Geeeoorge," I warned.

In a flash George was speeding up the stairs, with me tailing a second behind him. He made it halfway up before I caught his ankles, grabbing hold of him firmly.

"Gaaahh!" George screeched.

I groaned in pain as he came tumbling down on top of me, and the two of us rolled ungracefully down the stairs.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" George yelled, attempting to untangle his limbs from mine. "I'm going to have bruises!"

I lunged at him, pinning his arms to the ground.

"Don't you dare say a word to Fred," I told him firmly.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked, staring up at me with a threateningly cocky expression.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"If you want your six Galleons, you won't breathe a word," I said.

George grinned widely.

"Deal."


	7. Courageous Coward

**A/N:** How's that for a quick update? I guess I was on a bit of a roll. I hope everyone takes the time to review. I'm writing for all of you who enjoy this story, and every review I get helps drive me forward!

The bold writing is Fred's, and the bold/italic writing is Juliet's. You'll know what I mean when you get there. I just thought I'd clarify just in case anyone gets confused (I don't like placing author's notes in the middle of the flow of a story).

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

* * *

**- CHAPTER SIX -**

_Courageous Coward_

_Juliet Christie_

Friday evening was the scheduled Keeper tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Angelina had instructed we all be there. Of course, Harry was an exception, as he was serving the last of his detentions with Umbridge. I knew he was receiving the same punishment Fred had. The thought only made me hate Umbridge even more than I already did.

However, although my mind should have been on the Keeper tryouts, it had drifted far and wide. While Angelina prepared all of the Keeper hopefuls by giving them instructions to follow, my mind was back in the common room flitting back and forth between the multiple tasks I still needed to complete.

My homework stack was growing frighteningly quickly, but I continued to ignore it. It seemed instead of growing keen with studying like I should have been (especially during my final year at school), the opposite was occurring. I was becoming less and less encouraged about completing my projects, and more and more absorbed in anything—and everything—else. My time was being quickly eaten up by assisting Fred and George with their joke shop, Quidditch, as well as carefully constructing a rather ugly hatred for Dolores Umbridge. But, above and beyond all of that, George had managed to get me thinking a whole lot more about what I was going to do about Fred.

It had never been my intention to fire up my relationship with Fred after Cedric died. I had assumed it would happen _organically_, so to speak. But I would have never guessed that the time would arrive only months after the disaster of the Triwizard Tournament. Although it was a long time in the making, it still seemed shockingly soon to me.

Emotionally, I didn't think I was ready to handle being in a relationship. It had nothing to do with Fred, but more with myself. I was uncertain whether or not I could trust myself to be good to Fred. I was such a jumbled mess, that I felt like it would only make things harder.

Even so, despite the doubts flitting through my mind about the whole situation, I couldn't help but see some logic in George's words.

Angelina had come into the change room and instructed us all to take our positions on the field. She had developed a structured try-out for each of the potential players, and wanted us all to take part. _Observation_ _and_ _participation_, she had stressed.

I made my way out to the pitch with the others, but my mind was still elsewhere.

George had been right when he said my relationship with Fred was inevitable…or at least, I felt it was. Both Fred and I were well aware that there were mutual feelings between us. We were also both aware that it was going to be me who had to make the first move. I had always intended for that to happen…but I had never imagined that the right time would be _now_.

The worst part was I couldn't figure out if George was being sincere. Did he honestly believe that it would be for the best if I was with Fred, or was he really just worried about winning his stupid bet?

I guess none of it really mattered. All that mattered was what I felt comfortable with. But that raised an even more pressing question.

Was I ready to be with Fred?

It seemed almost impossible to me that it could be that simple. The two of us had spent two full years dancing around the topic and acting like downright morons. Of course, I suppose it was somewhat understandable. Young love isn't always an exact science. But could it really be that easy? Could I honestly just reach out and take it?

"Juliet!"

My head snapped up at the sound of Angelina's scolding voice. It seemed she had grown at lot less timid with me when she was on the field. Out here, she was boss.

I quickly realized why she was screeching my name. During my daydreaming, all of my team mates had launched into the air, leaving me standing on the ground staring at my feet.

I heard several quite audible snickers from the Keeper hopefuls on the sidelines, and took a moment to fix them with a threatening glare.

A few of them stared back at me, grinning maliciously.

_Cocky bastards._

It was then that I noticed a patch of fiery red hair sticking out from the group of hopefuls. My eyes widened and I did a double-take.

"_Ron_?" I asked incredulously, watching as the lanky red-head tried to duck behind his peers.

"Ron's here?" George yelled from above me.

I watched as Ron's ears grew bright red in embarrassment as Fred and George erupted in violent laughter.

"Juliet—" Angelina called again, sounding weary already.

"Sorry, Ange," I said apologetically as I quickly joined the others up in the air.

"Alright," she said, satisfied that we were all ready for tryouts to begin. Katie smacked Fred over the head with her hand as he and George continued to chortle with laughter. "Fred, George, _please_," Angelina urged.

"It's no wonder he didn't tell anyone he was coming," Katie said with a distasteful look at the boys. "You've got him scared stiff."

Fred and George didn't seem to care at all that their brother now looked as though he were considering running back to the castle. In fact, they were waving furiously at him, and blowing kisses down to where he stood on the field. Those standing around him had begun to join in, laughing at his expense.

"Alright, that's enough!" Angelina demanded. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Fred and George turned reluctantly to face the rest of the group, still with wide grins plastered on their faces.

"I pity Ron," I said with a shake of my head.

"The Chasers are going to have the biggest jobs today," Angelina said, cutting off the discussion. "Katie, you and Juliet will be trying to get past each of the Keepers. Each of them will have a chance to stop five throws. Remember that they're all inexperienced, so start off a little slower with the first one."

Katie and I nodded to show we understood. It wasn't the first time Angelina had given us this instruction. She had begun to remind me quite a lot of Oliver Wood. I wouldn't have thought it possible for someone to be as keen about Quidditch as that boy was, but I had a feeling Angelina was going to give him a run for his money this year.

"I will be doing observation, so I won't be taking part in the actual run-throughs," she continued. "George and Fred, I'm going to have the girls take three shots on each of the hopefuls with you two on the sidelines. Then I'm going to get the two of you to introduce one Bludger into the mix—just _one_," she urged. "I want to see how they can do with another ball flying around."

"A Galleon says I can knock Ron off his broom," Fred said with an evil grin.

Angelina fixed him with a hard stare.

"That's a fool's bet, and you know it," George said with a laugh.

"Even though you're all going to be taking part, I'm going to ask for all of your opinions at the end of the tryouts. So pay attention," Angelina said strongly. "Fred and George, I want you to fetch the Bludger, but keep it away from this end of the field until I say so. Katie, you've got the Quaffle?" Katie held the leather ball out, "Good. You and Juliet get set. I'll fetch the first Keeper."

Angelina sped off toward the group of anxious-looking players below. Fred and George fixed Katie and I with malicious grins.

"How much d'you want to bet Ron makes a fool of himself?" Fred asked.

"Nothing," Katie said irritably. "I'm sure he'll do fine."

"He already looks like he's going to throw up on himself," I pointed out, staring down at Ron's green face and red ears. "Maybe you should leave him alone."

Fred and George made faces of disgust.

"Leave him alone?" George said, as if the idea was preposterous. "Where's the hilarity in that?"

The two of them took off to fetch a Bludger, laughing all the way there.

"I don't think I missed out on much," I said as Katie and I took our places at centre field, "growing up as an only child. I can't imagine getting teased relentlessly has been all that enjoyable for Ron."

"I don't care if they take the mickey out of him," Katie replied. "I'd just prefer if they didn't do it now. I don't want to be here as it is."

"Agreed," I said.

"Plus I don't think I'd enjoy watching Ron wet himself," she said with a grimace.

I doubled over in laughter at her statement, suddenly losing control of myself. Katie watched in amusement, before she too began clutching her stomach in hilarity.

"That's more like it," Fred yelled with approval upon hearing our giggles. He and George were situated behind us, batting a Bludger back and forth between them.

"Not you lot too," Angelina said wearily as she approached Katie and me. "I was counting on the two of you to take this seriously."

Katie and I sobered up immediately, promising we'd do our part to make the tryouts run as smoothly as possible.

"Okay," Angelina said, "start on my signal."

She sped away from us, situating herself so she had better view of the goalposts. I immediately recalled how frightened I had been when I had first tried out for the team. I very much pitied the terrified hopefuls this time around. Being scrutinized by an entire group of experienced Quidditch players was incredibly nerve-wracking.

"He can't be old enough to try out," Katie said, looking toward the Keeper taking his position in front of the hoops.

"He looks about seven," I commented.

The boy there had curly brown hair, and donned a look on his face that made me almost certain this was not going to go well. He was so pale, I thought he might collapse and fall from his broom. It made me think perhaps we should have a spotter set up.

Angelina yelled for us to begin, and Katie took off toward the goal. I sped behind her, and she made a backward pass to me. I remembered what Angelina had said: start them off easy. Keeping it in mind, I made a beeline for the goals, and neatly tossed the Quaffle into the far right hoop. The small boy lunged too late, and missed. Angelina marked it down on her clipboard.

"Alright, reset and go," Angelina instructed us, as Katie retrieved the falling Quaffle and we made our way back to the starting point.

"How many times do we have to do this?" Katie asked as we repositioned ourselves in the centre of the pitch.

I glanced over at the awaiting students.

"There are thirteen more after this," I told her with a disheartened frown. I did the math. "That makes sixty-nine more runs."

Katie sighed and took off once more at Angelina's signal. She passed neatly to me, and I soared over top of her, trading positions with her. I made a short zig-zag back, and tossed it into Katie's grasp. She wound up and—almost lazily—scored through the centre hoop.

The small boy was red with embarrassment and looked as though he might burst into tears.

I was tired of tryouts already.

The night continued with more of the same sad attempts. The sky continued to grow darker—as did the team's moods. Angelina was trying to keep a positive mind. She repeatedly assured us that _someone _amongst the lot must be good. I was having serious doubts.

It was quite disheartening, watching so many terrible Quidditch players try to save a few lousy goals. I had never realized how tediously boring Quidditch tryouts were. The last time I had attended them, I had been one of the hopefuls. Only now did I understand what a pain in the arse they were…especially when my mind had other things it could have been focused on instead.

Fred and George fast grew just as bored as the rest of us. They had a few laughs trying to knock the Keepers off their brooms, but that was cut short when Angelina scolded them for getting too close to causing them serious injury. Only when Ron's turn was up did their mischief start up again in earnest.

When Ron reached his turn—he was the second-to-last to try out—there were two to beat. One was a bloke named Geoffrey Hooper (an annoying whiny bugger whom none of us liked) and a girl called Vicky Frobisher who had started the try out by informing us that she already was committed to several other activities. They were both fair fliers, and far surpassed everyone else who had come out.

I could tell from Ron's expression that he was definitely feeling the pressure. I sincerely hoped he did well. I by no means wanted to end up with the moaning bloke as a member of our team.

When Ron settled himself in front of the hoops I was struck with a momentary urge to go easy on him. Not because I was desperate for him to beat the others, but because he looked downright sick. It was truly pitiful, watching him sit up there, swaying on his broom as if he were about to fall over. I shared a look of unease with Katie, and listened to Fred and George cackling behind me.

Katie and I were well used to our roles by now, and we started off with an easy shot. Ron, by some miracle, caught it neatly and tossed it back to me. My eyes widened a bit in surprise. He noticed, and sent a sheepish grin my way. He still looked like he might throw up on himself.

Twice more Katie and I soared through the air to attempt a goal, and twice more Ron surprised me by blocking the Quaffle.

"Good, Ron," Angelina complimented. "Now we're going to do the same thing, but Fred and George are going to bring the Bludger into play."

Ron went from green to white in the matter of a moment.

"What's the matter Ronniekins?" Fred asked in a sing-song voice.

"Afraid of your big brothers, are you?" George teased.

"Alright, let's move it along," Angelina said. "When you're ready, Ron."

Katie and I had to watch ourselves, because Fred and George were getting a little carried away. They seemed very keen on trying to knock Ron off of his broom, as they batted the Bludger around with more force than necessary. As we soared towards Ron, I had to barrel roll to avoid being hit. I only narrowly managed to get out of the way.

"Whoops, sorry, Jules!" George shouted as I tossed the Quaffle to Katie.

Katie zig-zagged around Fred—who had made his way into the goal area to purposely distract Ron—and threw the ball at the centre hoop. He caught it effortlessly this time, and actually managed a grin through his nervousness.

"Well done, Ron!" Angelina commended.

We reset once more, Katie starting with the Quaffle.

She passed it sideways to me, and I tossed it quickly back to her. We crossed over each other, Katie once more whipping the ball at me.

Ron's eyes were locked on the Quaffle as I approached him. I was impressed that he seemed to be able to block out the yells of Fred and George.

I dodged the Bludger Fred sent my way and whipped the Quaffle toward the left hoop. For a moment I thought it was in, but Ron managed to stop it with his fingertips, sending it drifting off course.

My jaw dropped in astonishment as Ron realized what he had just done. The twins looked positively shell-shocked, and Katie was beaming.

"Excellent, Ron," Angelina said. "You can relax now."

Ron looked as though he might burst into tears from relief. I flew round and gave him a firm slap on the shoulder. Fred and George looked pleased, despite the efforts they had made to publicly embarrass him. Frobisher and Hooper both looked disheartened.

As Ron left the field, the last hopeful took his place. She was a mean-looking third year girl with dark hair and fierce eyes. Of all the competitors, she looked the most prepared.

But, as seen with Ron, looks cannot always be trusted. The angry-looking girl managed to save only two of the five shots.

Angelina flew down to thank all of those who tried out, and told them they'd announce the new Keeper after she had spoken to the rest of the team. Nearly all of them waited by the stands as Fred, George, Katie, Angelina and I hurried toward the change room to talk it over.

"I think it's going to be Ron," Angelina said when we'd made it into the change room. "Those other two are both better on a broom… but that one bloke has an attitude problem, and the girl is too involved in extra-curricular activities as it is."

She looked round at all of us for input.

"None of them were spectacular," Fred put in.

"Ron was the best," I said. "All things considered."

"He's a little rough, and he's going to have to combat the nerves, but I think we can work with him," Angelina said.

Katie nodded in agreement.

George shook his head sadly.

"Sometimes the Weasley charm is just _too_ effective," he said.

"Yeah," Fred agreed, "Ickle Ronniekins somehow managed to win over all three of you girls."

"Disgusting, really," George said.

Angelina rolled her eyes.

"Can you two give me an honest answer?" she asked.

"I reckon he'll have to do," George said.

"So long as he can calm those bloody nerves of his," Fred added.

"We'll work on it," Angelina said, sounding sure of it.

I chuckled. "You do realize that now nearly half of our entire team is made up of Weasleys?"

Katie grimaced a little at my comment, and Fred and George beamed.

"I guess Ron's not all bad," George said with a shrug.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Hey, if we get Ginny a spot, we can rule the entire team."

"Well, seen as we now have a full team, that won't be happening," Angelina said in good humour. "Get changed and head in. I'll go give Ron the good news."

Angelina headed back out the way she came, both to congratulate Ron and crush the others. As soon as she had left the dressing room, George spoke up.

"Weird taking orders from Ange, don't you think?" he said, tugging his shoes off and tossing them in his Quidditch bag.

"She's no Oliver Wood," Katie joked.

"You actually _miss_ Wood?" Fred asked incredulously.

"Kates liked him, remember?" I pointed out.

"Aren't you still with that Ethan bloke?" George questioned.

Katie nodded. "That doesn't mean I couldn't enjoy the view—and Oliver Wood was _definitely_ one hell of a view."

Fred and George grimaced.

"So before she returns," George said, sending Katie and unappreciative look, "what do we think of Captain Angelina?"

His question seemed to be directed toward me in particular.

"I told you yesterday, Ange and I are fine," I reminded him. "And better her as captain than one of you freak shows."

Fred and George fixed me with equally hard stares.

"Fair enough," George responded.

Just then, from somewhere outside, Ron's scream of excitement could be heard echoing through the pitch. The four of us stopped and stared at each other momentarily, and then Fred and George leapt to their feet.

Grinning evilly, the two of them took off at top speed, back out the change room door, presumably to tease their little brother relentlessly.

Katie and I rolled our eyes as we watched them go. George wasn't wearing any shoes.

* * *

Despite Fred and George's continuous teasing, Ron seemed quite pleased with himself for making the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Harry was positively ecstatic. And, although the rest of us were wary of the fact that Ron needed a lot of improvement before he would be good enough to compete in any matches, we were all happy for him too.

Unfortunately, the high from getting our team put together didn't last very long. Regular classes were in full swing, and things had seriously begun to deteriorate. Professor McGonagall was more grouchy than usual, and we were positive Professor Umbridge had more than a little to do with it.

The other professors were also on edge, as rumours of Umbridge reporting to the Ministry about the staff had begun floating around. None of the students knew for certain, and we hadn't devised another plan to spy on her yet. Of course, after her torturing Harry and Fred, I wasn't so keen on getting any nearer to her than was absolutely necessary.

The professors were also shoving NEWTs and graduation down our throats constantly. Our homework load increased substantially—almost to the point of ridiculousness. I was positive there was no way I would be able to juggle everything that was going on. It was preposterous.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was fast becoming the worst class of all time. Umbridge had made good on her threat to split our group up. Of course, we weren't going to be able to get away with another five person walk-out, so we had to endure it. And here I was thinking she couldn't make the class any worse. She had already banned wand usage. Add that to the fact that the sound of her voice made my head nearly explode, and there wasn't much more she could do.

Alas, I was left seated in the far corner of the classroom, completely isolated from all of the others. I was situated at the back of the room, on the far left. George was also at the back, but in the far right-hand corner. Katie was seated at the very front of my row. If everyone else's heads were hunched over, I could stare directly at the back of her blonde head. Lee had been placed closest to the door at the front right corner, and Fred was smack-dab in the middle of the classroom.

She couldn't possibly have spread us any further apart. Wonderful.

"Please turn your books to page seventy-three," Umbridge squeaked.

I did, and grumbled as I eyed the title at the top of the page:

_Duelling Etiquette for Beginners_

It was bad enough that she was having us work out of a text book meant for second years. Even worse that she insisted we take notes on thoroughly pointless topics. Not only had we already learned how to duel, but nothing we were now studying was relevant in the real world at all. Bloody stupid, if you ask me.

"Please take notes on the proper procedures of organized wizard duelling," she said, fixing the room with her beady little eyes. "Talking is not necessary, and therefore not permitted."

She sat down at her desk, and pulled a small stack of parchment towards her. She pulled a quill out of her drawer and began scratching away. I wasn't sure what she was marking up, exactly. It couldn't have been something overly important. I was certain she wasn't actually qualified to do any serious teaching.

I pulled out my own quill unenthusiastically. I had absolutely no intention of taking notes in this class. There was no point. Instead I began doodling idly on the edge of my page. I looked up every once in a while to ensure Umbridge wasn't coming to investigate, although I was certain I would be able to hear her chunky feet hitting the floor well in advance in the event that she made her way over. I'd have plenty of warning.

I grew very bored very quickly. I could feel myself drifting off as my hand continued to doodle on the parchment. My eyes were falling closed when something caught my eye.

I was perplexed. There, in the centre of my page, words began to appear. I recognized the writing immediately.

**Don't even try to pretend you're not staring longingly at me from over there.**

I snapped my head up to look at Fred where he was seated in the middle of the classroom. He turned momentarily to wink at me, and then began scrawling on the page in front of him. Moments later another line appeared directly beneath the first:

**New prototype for the shop: Message-Sending Quills.**

I stared in amazement. I watched Fred as he continued to write, and almost instantly the words once again appeared on the page in front of me.

**There's one in your bag. Just write the name of the person you want to write to. The messages will deliver themselves.**

I immediately began rummaging in my bag. My hand came into contact with a bundle of extra quills. I pulled them out, and eyed them. My eye was immediately caught. One of the quills had a sparkling orange _W_ engraved at the top. I tugged it out from the bundle and eyed it curiously.

I dipped the quill in ink and scrawled the name _Fred Weasley_ on the page, underneath the messages Fred had sent to me.

_**Is it working?**_ I wrote.

I waited for a moment before Fred's writing appeared on my page once more, directly beneath my last sentence.

**Yes. Cool, isn't it? We have Umbridge to thank for this one. Her torture quill gave me the idea.**

I was taken aback by that development. Only someone like Fred would be able to take something as horrifying as a quill that writes in your own blood and subsequently carves up your skin, and turn it into a clever—and harmless—invention.

_**Unbelievable. This is bloody brilliant.**_

**I had to do something after she split us all up. This class was bad enough already. **

_**Tell me about it. When did you do this?**_

**Perfected it last night. It's good, right? She should have known better than to try and deter us. There's no defeating the Weasley twins.**

I snickered. He was definitely right there. When Fred and George set their minds to something, they were an unstoppable force. It was quite frightening, really.

_**Unbelievable. You've outdone yourselves this time.**_

**You flatter me.**

I stared at the quill in my hand, highly impressed with Fred's brilliance. He and George had done some pretty incredible things, but this one may have tipped the scale.

_**How far do they work, distance-wise?**_

**We haven't tested them for distance. They should work anywhere—within reason. I wouldn't trust them overseas or out of the country, say.**

_**That's handy. You may very well eliminate owls for post!**_

**I hadn't thought of that!**

_**Like I said, brilliant.**_

I glanced up to check on Umbridge. She was still bent over her stack of papers, scratching away with an evil little smile on her face. I glared at her. I was surprised she couldn't feel the hatred radiating from me.

I turned my attention back to my conversation with Fred.

_**How freaked out would Umbridge be if her parchment started talking to her?**_

I watched as Fred looked toward the front of the room. He grinned at me over his shoulder and then turned back to his parchment.

**Let's find out.**

My eyes widened in excitement and I grinned mischievously to myself.

**Keep your head down so she won't suspect either of us. You won't be able to read what I'm writing once I address the messages to her. They only work between two people.**

_**Got it.**_

Once I had scrawled the last words on the parchment, I crumpled it up and shoved it back into my book bag. If Umbridge got suspicious and started checking up on our notes, she'd certainly punish both Fred and me. I unrolled a fresh length of parchment and began scribbling duelling notes down as a cover.

From the corner of my eye I watched Fred.

His quill was flying across the page. I bit down on my fist to contain my laughter.

After a few moments, I chanced a look up to the front of the classroom where Umbridge sat.

I almost lost it.

Umbridge was staring down at her papers with a look of pure astonishment and horror. Her face was screwed up in an expression that seemed torn between disgust and fear. I watched as she glanced curiously at her quill, and then lifted the parchment to check underneath it.

Her gaze moved to scan the classroom, and I immediately snapped my eyes back down to my desk.

I didn't chance another look up, but continued scribbling down the meaningless dribble Professor Umbridge had assigned us. As predicted, though, I did manage to hear her approach when her fat feet started to make their way through the aisles.

I cast a look toward Fred, hoping he had noticed and stopped whatever it was he was writing.

Umbridge made her way down the rows, spending extra time eyeing up Lee and George's notes. It was quite obvious she was going to be suspicious of the whole lot of us for the entire term. I hoped Fred had managed to hide his notes, or he'd be in for another one of Toad Woman's unpleasant detentions.

I'm not sure what Umbridge thought she was looking for. Surely she wasn't smart enough to have figured out what was going on, was she?

Another glance up at her face told me that she definitely had no idea why her parchment had suddenly started addressing her. She was checking on us purely because we had raised suspicion before. I kind of regretted it in hindsight.

I held my breath when she reached Fred's desk. I didn't want him to be caught. The joke had been _my_ idea, after all.

She lingered over his shoulder, staring at him as he continued to jot notes from his text.

"Is something the matter, Professor?" he asked, looking up at her with pleasant curiosity.

Her eyes narrowed in obvious suspicion.

"No, Mr. Weasley," she replied. Clearly she hadn't found anything incriminating. "Just ensuring you are on task."

Fred kept his eyes locked on hers for a moment longer, until she carried on her way.

I was the last person that she came to check on. It was only then that I noticed she was clutching the offending piece of parchment in her hand. Tilting my head, I could just make out the words _foolhardy _and _toad-like_. I contained my laughter—only just.

Umbridge eyed me furiously for a few moments, looming over me as though I were some kind of slave. Her fist was clenched around the bit of parchment with much more force than necessary, causing the paper to crinkle. I marvelled at how effective a prank as simple as that had been. Fred had struck gold with this new invention. I was sure of it.

Finding nothing of interest on my desk or the surrounding area, Professor Umbridge waddled back to the front of the room. She sat back down, and I watched as she re-examined the page in her hands.

There were tears in my eyes. She looked positively furious.

**See her face?**

Fred was back. I scrawled his name again.

_**Bloody brilliant. You'll have to tell me what you wrote.**_

**I will. Thanks for saving me, there.**

I stared at his writing in confusion.

_**What do you mean? **_

**I forgot to tell you, when you're finished, you have to write: 'Message completed. Otherwise everything you write with that quill will show up on my page. When Umbridge walked by, my parchment was filled with your notes. She must have thought they were mine.**

I grinned.

_**Oops. Accidental. But you're welcome.**_

I glanced back up at Umbridge. She was staring down at the parchment with fear in her eyes. I wondered what was going through her head…probably thought it was part of the ever-growing conspiracy she believed was going on. Perhaps she thought the parchment would start attacking her. I chuckled to myself at the mental picture of Umbridge being smothered by a viscous length of parchment.

When I looked back down at my page, I had another note from Fred.

**Before I forget…after class, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?**

I frowned a little. It wasn't like Fred to ask if we could talk. Not unless it was something important…

My heart rate picked up a little.

He didn't want to talk about _us_, did he?

Thoughts of smothering Umbridge immediately left my mind.

What if he _did_ want to talk about us?

I started to panic a little bit. I knew George had told me I should think about my relationship with Fred, but I had never expected that Fred himself would confront me about it! I was under the impression that the ball was completely in my court…and I wasn't sure I was ready to make the decision right here and now. I still needed time to weigh my options!

Sure, I had feelings for Fred, but did that really mean I should jump into the relationship right here and now?

Maybe it did…but it had only been a few days since my conversation with George. And since then, my head had been swimming with a whole lot of other worries. I didn't have enough time to think the whole Fred thing through.

**Juliet?**

I gripped my quill again, feeling suddenly nauseas.

_**Yeah, we can talk.**_

My stomach lurched.

**Good. Now you'd best get back to work. I know I'm distracting, but try to keep your eyes off of me.**

I frowned down at the words. Fred _was_ distracting me. But now that he wanted to 'talk', he was distracting in a whole new way.

_**I'll do my best.**_

Although Defence Against the Dark Arts tended to drag on, because my head was now swimming with worries about what I was going to say to Fred, the time seemed to fly. Before I had managed to even come up with a game plan, Professor Umbridge was dismissing the class. As we filed out of the room, she fixed me with a suspicious stare, but I was so distracted that I barely registered it.

"That class is complete rubbish," Lee grumbled. He was the first out of the room, and waited for the rest of us to catch up.

"Agreed," Katie said glumly.

"I've never experienced a bigger waste of time," Lee continued.

"Let's not dwell on it, it'll spoil my appetite," George said.

It was lunch time, and the group of us were headed for the Great Hall. We had only taken a few steps when Fred grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me back so I was in step with him.

"Sit with me?" he said as we arrived at the entrance to the Great Hall.

"I always sit with you," I pointed out, quirking my eyebrow in confusion. At the same time my stomach was filling with butterflies. I felt like I might be sick.

"I know," he said, "but we're having a talk, remember?"

"Right now?" I asked, feeling slightly anxious. He was seriously going to breach the subject with everyone else right next to us?

He eyed me curiously.

"Why not?"

The group of us had reached the Gryffindor table. I shoved my bag under the table and took a seat on the bench next to Fred. As he piled food onto his plate, he turned so he was facing me, effectively blocking the others out of our conversation.

"I wanted to know how your talk with George went," he said under his breath.

My eyes widened in sudden realization, and I felt a weight lift off of my chest.

"Oh!" I said.

He shot me a confused look.

"Why? What did you think I wanted to talk about?" he asked, smirking at my surprised expression.

I shook my head, clearing the earlier worries from my mind. There was no way I was going to tell him where I thought the conversation was going to go.

"Nothing," I lied.

He eyed me suspiciously, but didn't press the subject.

"Okay…so how did things go with George?" he asked quietly. The others were chatting animatedly about another matter entirely, and took no notice of the two of us.

I stared at Fred, trying to find my tongue. Suddenly I couldn't think clearly. Did he honestly just want to talk about _George_?

I cleared my throat.

"George…uh, yeah," I said, clamping my eyes shut in an attempt to refocus my thoughts. "It went surprisingly well, actually."

Fred definitely looked confused now.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said automatically. "I'm fine. And so is George, it seems."

"Really?" Fred asked. I wasn't sure if he was asking about me or his brother.

I nodded.

I was feeling very apprehensive, and I was entirely uncertain as to why. I tried to calm my nerves. Fred didn't want to talk about us. There was no reason to feel uneasy.

"What did he say?" Fred asked.

I cleared my throat, casting a glance toward Lee, Katie, and George to ensure they were occupied.

"Alicia broke up with him over the summer," I told him. "He kept it from us."

Fred's expression was surprised.

"Why?" he asked under his breath.

I bit down on my bottom lip.

"He didn't want us to worry," I said. It wasn't the whole truth. George didn't want me to have to worry about him on top of the feud with my mother and Cedric's death. He didn't want _Fred_ to have to worry about anything but his relationship with me. I wasn't about to raise that issue here, especially when I had so narrowly avoided it already.

"I can't believe he didn't tell us," he said, glancing over at his brother with a frown on his face.

"I know," I said. "But I'm pretty sure he's fine."

George caught the two of us staring at him, and turned to us with a look of amusement and mild surprise on his face.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said.

George fixed the two of us with a suggestive grin. Oddly, I hoped Fred would catch sight of it. I hoped he would see the way the others looked back and forth between us, as if surveying the unspoken relationship between us. I wanted him to have to say something…I wanted him to bring it up.

What the bloody hell was wrong with me? Hadn't I been freaking out when I thought Fred was going to talk about us? Had I not wanted to avoid that conversation? Half an hour ago I was wishing with sincerity that Fred wouldn't breach the topic. _I _was supposed to be the one to bring it up.

But maybe I didn't want to be.

Maybe I _wanted_ Fred to make the first move. It was preposterous, really. Of course Fred wasn't going to be the first to do anything. It was supposed to be _my_ job. We both knew that.

There was no way Fred could, with sound mind, confront me about my feelings. It would be stupid of him. He wouldn't pressure me like that, after everything I had been through. He _shouldn't_, and he knew enough not to. But still…I wished he would.

I looked over at Fred and grinned at him, trying to hide the cowardly feelings brewing inside of me. He grinned back, and then threw himself into conversation with the rest of the group. Angelina joined us soon after, and everyone's attention was turned to the topic of Quidditch practices.

That left me frowning down at my plate of food.

How could I be brave enough to stand up for Harry Potter…be brave enough to want to avenge Cedric Diggory…be brave enough to wish to join the Order of the Phoenix…

And yet I was too cowardly to tell Fred Weasley I wanted to be with him?

Gryffindor courage, indeed.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please take the time to review.


	8. Loyalties

**A/N:** You guys are hilarious. Your reviews make me very happy!

I know you're all aching for Fred and Juliet to get together. I agree, I think it's time. I know it kind of seems a little soon for Juliet to be over Cedric, but she's not really. Not entirely. But remember, she has been in love with Fred for quite some time now—longer than she loved Cedric. So even though she's still upset about him, all of her Fred-feelings are starting to surface properly.

I wanted to give a shout out to gunsANDroses. Yes, I do receive your reviews (despite the fact that you don't have an account) and I enjoy reading them! Thanks for taking the time to send me your thoughts! =)

Enjoy. And remember to review!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- CHAPTER SEVEN ---**

_Loyalties_

_Juliet Christie_

As the days passed, I continued to grow more and more uneasy about Fred. I was becoming more aware of the fact that I did truly want to be with him, and yet, I was completely unsure how to go about doing it. I wasn't certain if it was really the right time. I was feeling horribly guilty. It somehow felt like I was betraying Cedric.

Several times I came close to telling Fred outright what was going on, but I always chickened out at the last minute. It was especially difficult with George continuously eyeing me suggestively as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Unfortunately, he _did_ know what I was thinking. And he was waiting for me to make a move. He had approached me several times since our talk asking if I had made up my mind yet. I had a feeling his concern had more to do with the bet he had going against Lee than wanting me and Fred to be happy.

Stupid George.

My mind was momentarily taken off of Fred when a surprise arrived at breakfast one morning. The post came like usual, and I was shell-shocked to see I had received a letter…from my mother.

I was positive I didn't want to discuss my mother with any of my friends, so I stuffed the envelope into my bag to read later.

I didn't open it until I was seated in class alone.

While Professor Flitwick was explaining the lesson for the day, I unfolded the parchment and looked down at my mother's writing. I was wary of Fred seated directly behind me, and hoped he wouldn't notice the way my head was bent low over the page.

Ensuring Professor Flitwick was well into his lesson, I started to read.

_Juliet—_

_I'm sorry it has taken me so long to contact you. As you know, your father and I have had a disagreement. It's been difficult to keep the lines of communication open over the past several weeks. _

I snickered. It wasn't like she had tried very hard to contact me. Perhaps she wasn't able to send owls to Headquarters over the summer, but I had been at school for nearly three weeks now. Letters could easily be delivered to me here.

_I'm writing firstly to apologize for the things that were said between your dad and me. From what I understand, you overheard me making some pretty awful statements. _

I snickered again. She had that right.

_I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I want to assure you that I do not think you were lying about Cedric Diggory or the events that occurred that day. It was wrong for me to make assumptions._

_I won't claim to understand the position you're in right now. I can't imagine what you must be going through. You've kept yourself together beautifully. You are a much stronger person than I am, and I'm proud of you. But I do want to urge you to be careful. Whatever it is you choose to believe is up to you. I don't hold anything against you or your father. You are old enough to make your own decisions about where your loyalties lie. But it is important for you to understand the dangers you are getting yourself into. _

_That leads me to the second reason for writing. Your father and I have decided to take some time away from each other. _

My eyes widened. I read the sentence over again twice more to make sure I had seen correctly. They were _separating_? I continued on in shock.

_We've talked it out, and I understand his position. He needs to do what he thinks is right. I am not going to stand in the way of him doing that, but I don't agree with the position he's put you in. You are far too young to get involved in such things. _

_However, as I've said before, I do believe you are old enough to make your own decisions. Should you choose to join your father at the end of the year, I won't stand in your way. You are legally an adult, and I have no right to hold you back. But, I am requesting that you don't follow in his footsteps. Despite the fact that you are legally of age, you are still very young. I am writing in hopes that you'll step back and look at this logically. There are places in this world that are unsuitable for a young, beautiful witch like you. I don't want you getting yourself into a dangerous situation. _

I suddenly felt very out of breath. Not only did my mother appear to be leaving my father…but she wanted me to choose between the two of them? I read on in absolute disbelief.

_My final reason for writing is to request that you remain quiet with your position. Whatever is going on has got the wizarding world on edge. I want you to be careful. Wherever your loyalties lie, it is important that you keep your opinions to yourself. I would hate to see my only child fall into trouble for speaking her mind. _

I frowned down at the page. She sounded like Professor McGonagall—keep your head down, and your mouth closed. It seemed that was a popular opinion, lately. I wondered if my mother knew about the Ministry sending Professor Umbridge in to spy on Dumbledore. If she _was_ aware of that fact, then her warning may be directed toward the situation with the Ministry of Magic in particular.

_For that reason, I request that you rethink your current friendships. _

I did a double-take.

_I know how important your friends are to you, but I also know how open they are to speaking their minds—in particular Fred and George Weasley. I know they have been your greatest friends for ages, but I truly believe your relationship could put you in a very dangerous position. With things in their current state, my top priority is keeping you safe. I hope you understand._

_I hope you'll take everything I said into consideration. Don't be worried about your father and I—we will sort things out in good time. Just be worried about yourself. Think about all that I've said._

_And please, keep yourself safe._

—_Mum_

My mouth was agape as I stared down at my mother's letter.

My head was spinning.

What did any of it mean?

At some points it sounded as though she was telling me she had changed her mind—that she believed what had happened during the Triwizard Tournament. But then she said her and Dad were spending some time apart…and I should stay away from Fred and George. _What?!_

I read the letter over a second time, trying to make sense of what she was trying to say.

It was during my second read-through that I understood.

My mother _did_ believe You-Know-Who had returned. She understood that Cedric had been murdered the day of the third task, and she knew the Ministry of Magic was ignoring the evidence.

Because she understood what was going on, she wanted me to stay quiet. She didn't want me to have a target on my back. With so many people thinking Harry's story was a crock, she didn't want me to be labelled as a Ministry betrayer. It was unsafe to openly admit that I was in support of Dumbledore…especially with Umbridge in the picture. I could get into serious trouble.

She was trying to keep me safe.

'_I request that you rethink your current friendships.'_

I scowled down at the words.

Sure, she was trying to look out for me. She wanted me to keep my mouth shut to save myself from the dangers of going against the Ministry. But in order to do it, I would have to turn against my greatest friends in the world.

My mother realized she had been wrong. She knew Harry Potter was telling the truth. But, unlike me and my father, she was unwilling to stand up for what was right.

Realization hit me.

That's why she wasn't speaking to Dad. It wasn't because she thought he was wrong. It was because she thought he was being reckless. By taking a stand and joining the Order, he was putting himself in the line of fire. He was openly placing his life—and mine—in danger. Once You-Know-Who made a move, he would certainly attack the Order of the Phoenix. If we were known members, we'd be on the Death Eaters' hit list. That was certain.

My mother was afraid for my safety, but instead of joining her friends and family to fight, she wanted to lay low and keep her head down. Stay out of the spotlight.

She didn't have the courage.

She didn't have the courage that my father had…that _I _had.

My mind once again flitted to Fred.

Did I have the courage for _that_?

My eye was caught suddenly, as foreign writing started to appear on my page of Charms notes. It took me a moment to recognize the writing, but when I did, I frowned.

**The clock is ticking, Juliet.**

I rolled my eyes.

George.

**If you don't act soon, Lee will win the bet. Do you really want that weight on your shoulders? **

I didn't dignify George's teasing with an answer. But that didn't stop him.

**Maybe that's the wrong way to convince you. But one look at Fred should. He's crazy about you. **

I frowned down at George's writing, then lifted my head to meet his eyes staring at me from the seat to my right. He raised his eyebrows at me and nodded in Fred's direction.

I looked over my shoulder. Fred lifted his gaze to meet mine and gave me a lopsided grin. I forced a smile and turned back around in my seat before he could read the frightened look in my eyes.

**You should do it.**

I pursed my lips and felt my stomach filling with butterflies.

I couldn't help but think that George was right.

It looks like I was going to have to find the courage.

-------

Our very first Quidditch practice was upon us, and Angelina was adamant that we all do our part to help Ron develop his skills. She was sure that being part of a team would bring out the best of his abilities. I hoped she was right. I had a feeling it was going to be more difficult than that. Ron had a terrible time trying to calm his nerves.

Harry insisted Ron was better when no one was watching. Of course, that didn't help at all considering we would be playing games with the entire school staring at us. At the moment, Ron was uncomfortable catching a Quaffle when _anyone_ was facing his direction.

_Sigh_.

We had a lot of work to do.

Fred, George, Angelina, Katie and I headed down to practice together. The twins were giddy with anticipation. The two of them were muttering conspiratorially to themselves as we headed down to the change rooms. That put Angelina in a bad mood. She didn't want to have to deal with containing Fred and George on top of leading practices. I commended her for taking on the role of captain. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle the responsibility.

"I'd appreciate it if you two took it easy on Ron tonight," she pleaded with the twins.

Katie snickered.

"You might as well save your breath, Ange," she said. "You're going to need it later when you're yelling at them to untie Ron from the goal posts."

I laughed, and Angelina scowled. The twins smirked evilly.

"Ron's our baby brother," George said.

"Like it or not, we have a right to tear him to shreds," Fred added.

"It's just part of life," George finished with a shrug.

When we reached the change rooms, Angelina left us and headed for the captain's quarters. Katie and I hurried off to the girls' change room and yanked our Quidditch gear on. It felt good to be back at practice again.

The boys were still getting dressed when we re-entered the main room. Ron and Harry were the last to get there, arriving just as Katie and I took a seat on the bench.

"All right, Ron?" George asked with a wink.

"Yeah," Ron said quietly, embarrassed. He placed his bag on the ground and began pulling his equipment out.

"Ready to show us all up, Ickle Prefect?" Fred asked, tugging his Quidditch robes over his head and emerging tousle-haired. I felt my stomach flip-flop at the sight. I squashed it down as Fred grinned maliciously at his brother.

"Shut up," Ron said. He was pulling on Oliver's old Quidditch robes. Surprisingly they seemed to fit him quite well, considering Oliver was much more broad-shouldered than Ron was. I would have expected him to be swimming in the previous captain's old stuff.

Angelina emerged from the captain's area and looked round at all of us.

"Okay, everyone," she said authoritatively. "Let's get to it; Juliet and Fred, if you can just bring out the ball crate for us. Oh, and there are a couple of people out there watching but I want you to just ignore them, all right?"

My eyebrows rose, and I immediately picked up on the would-be casual tone of her voice. I frowned. The spectators surely weren't going to be welcome guests.

"Slytherins," I muttered to Fred, as we each grabbed hold of a handle on the crate. He nodded grimly in response.

Sure enough, when we exited the change rooms we were met with the catcalls of the Slytherin Quidditch team and company. I groaned. This was going to be one hell of a practice.

Fred and I sat the balls down, and mounted our brooms with the others. In an instant we were up in the air.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" Draco Malfoy called from halfway up the near-empty stands. "Why would anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?"

Laughter echoed through the stadium, and I watched as Ron's ears turned red with embarrassment. I cast a glance at Fred and George. They were both frowning, eyeing Ron with looks of contemplation on their faces. They kept their mouths shut.

We all hovered as a group in the air and listened to Angelina's instructions.

"OK, everyone, we're going to start with some passes just to warm up, the whole team please—"

"Hey, Johnson, what's with the hairstyle, anyway?" Pansy Parkinson shrieked. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

Angelina ignored her with extraordinary calm, and continued. "Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do…"

The team spread out, Angelina starting with the Quaffle. She threw it hard to Fred, who tossed it across to George, and then to Harry, then to Ron…and Ron dropped it.

The Slytherins roared with laughter as Ron dove untidily to grab the Quaffle before it reached the ground. When he reclaimed his spot in the circle, he was blushing profusely.

I watched as Fred and George exchanged glances, but neither of them said anything.

"Pass it on, Ron," Angelina said.

Ron threw the Quaffle to me, and I back to Harry, then again to George.

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" Malfoy called from the stands. "Sure you don't need a lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?"

The play continued, George passing to Angelina, then a reverse-pass to Harry—who just barely caught it—and back to Ron, who missed it by only a couple of inches.

"Come on now, Ron," Angelina said as he dove once again for the Quaffle. "Pay attention."

Things only got worse from there. The next time the Quaffle was passed to Ron, he was so happy to catch it that he nearly knocked Katie off of her broom with his next pass. The Quaffle hit her squarely in the face and her nose started to bleed.

Fred and George handed her a Nosebleed Nougat to stop the bleeding, and Angelina called a stop to the passing drill.

"All right," she said, sounding slightly irritated. "Fred, George, go get your bats and a Bludger. Ron, get up to the goalposts. Harry, release the Snitch when I say so. We're going to aim for Ron's goal, obviously."

The twins and Harry flew off to gather their equipment, while I idly tossed the Quaffle up into the air, zooming around to catch it again.

"Positions Juliet, Katie," Angelina said. She didn't seem to notice that Katie's nosebleed hadn't yet stopped.

"You okay?" I asked her, concerned for her well-being.

"George said it would stop," she said. Her voice was muffled by her hand as she tried to stop the bleeding.

Ron didn't improve much after that. Harry zoomed around the pitch after the Snitch, while Fred and George whacked the Bludger around trying to get in our way. We Chasers passed back and forth, easily managing to get past Ron several times. It was a little disconcerting.

"Stop—_stop—_STOP!" Angelina bellowed, bringing us all to a halt. "Ron—you're not covering your middle post!"

"Oh…sorry…" Ron replied feebly.

"You keep shifting around while you're watching the Chasers!" she said. "Either stay in centre position until you have to move to defend a hoop, or else circle the hoops, but don't drift vaguely off to one side, that's how you let in the last three goals!"

"Sorry…" Ron repeated, his face and ears burning bright red.

"And Katie, can't you do something about that nosebleed?"

"It's just getting worse!" Katie replied, holding her nose with the sleeve of her robes.

I watched as Fred pulled the Nosebleed Nougat out of his pocket. He stared at it, horror-struck.

A chant of '_Gryffindor are losers'_ had broken out in the stands below us, but Angelina pressed on, trying to ignore them. She was so absorbed in the practice, that she didn't notice the looks of horror on Fred, George, and my own face as we raced toward Katie. She had gone white and was covered in blood.

"She needs the hospital wing," Angelina said hurriedly.

"We'll take her," Fred offered. "She—er—might have swallowed a Blood Blisterpod by mistake—"

"Well, there's no point continuing with no Beaters and a Chaser gone," Angelina said glumly as we watched Fred and George zoom off toward the castle, supporting Katie between them. "Come on, let's go and get changed."

Angelina, Ron, Harry and me trudged back to the change room feeling glum. The Slytherins continued to chant as we slumped our shoulders and scowled at the ground.

Harry stuffed the Bludger back into the crate along with the Quaffle and the Snitch.

"Give me a hand, Juliet?" he asked.

I grabbed hold of a handle and watched as Angelina tried to give Ron a few words of wisdom. They were several steps ahead of us, and I couldn't make out any more than mumbles from their conversation. Ron was grumbling, and his ears were still red. I could only imagine how embarrassed he was.

"Poor Ron," I commented, more to myself than to Harry.

He grunted in response.

"Hope Katie is okay," he said idly.

"She'll be fine," I assured him.

"Why didn't Fred and George say anything?" Harry asked, referring to Ron's performance at practice. "Did you…?"

"No," I said, a little bit surprised that Harry would ask me such a question. "I didn't say anything. Even Fred and George can show a little restraint when necessary."

He snickered a little bit.

"I've never seen that side of them."

I laughed in response.

"It doesn't surface very often, I'll admit, but it is there," I responded.

"They're fairly serious about you," Harry said, readjusting his grip on the crate between us. "Or at least Fred is, anyway."

I scowled.

"Not you as well," I said with a sigh.

Harry eyed me curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I don't need another _you-should-be-with-Fred_ speech," I told him.

Harry tried and failed to suppress a laugh as we neared the change rooms. Ron and Angelina had already disappeared inside.

"Well I won't bore you with another one, then," he said with a laugh.

"Thanks," I said.

"But if you're trying to avoid those conversations, I'd steer clear of Ginny," he said with a chuckle. "She's been going on about it for ages."

I scowled to myself as we reached the door to the change room.

"Well, maybe I'll have to give everyone a reason to stop."

-------

_Fred Weasley_

Katie's bleeding didn't stop all the way up to the hospital wing. Explaining exactly what happened to Pomfrey was a little difficult. She wasn't impressed.

"How many more of these injuries am I going to have to treat before people realize?" she was muttering angrily.

George and I were supporting Katie's weight between us. She was just barely conscious as we lay her down on one of the small hospital beds.

Pomfrey pushed us swiftly out of the way with surprising strength for a woman only half as tall as us.

"Quidditch can be such a foul game," she said angrily to herself. "Placing young children out there—especially _girls_—the danger involved! I've told Albus hundreds of times that it shouldn't be allowed."

George and I exchanged looks as Katie's head flopped over onto one of her shoulders. Her eyes were rolling around, drooping almost shut. It made my next words sound pretty stupid.

"It's not dangerous," I denied as Pomfrey went to work suppressing the bleeding.

She gave me a look that clearly stated she believed otherwise.

"It's not!" George agreed. "This was an accident. Our little brother—inexperienced as he is—hit her in the face with a Quaffle. It's no harm done, really."

"Perhaps it wouldn't be, had you two not been there to administer your own brand of medical attention on her," she said unpleasantly.

"We were only trying to help," I protested bitterly.

Katie's nose had stopped bleeding, but she was looking exceptionally pale from the blood loss.

"Well, it's a good thing she made it here before anything worse happened," Pomfrey said.

"Is practice over?" Katie asked sounding groggy.

"For you it is," George commented with a smirk.

"It wasn't much of a practice anyway," I said. "Ron made sure of that."

Katie groaned in response, and her head lolled over to her shoulder once more. I couldn't help but be a little amused, despite the fact that we had caused her injury.

Pomfrey must have noticed my amusement, because she turned on me with an unpleasant scowl.

"Mr. Weasley," she said sternly, "I believe Miss Bell is in good hands with me, you are both free to go back to your tower."

"I'll stay," George said. "One of us should make sure she gets back alright. You go on ahead, mate."

"Alright," I agreed. "I'll spread the word that you're still alive, shall I?" I asked, grinning down at Katie.

She smiled lopsidedly up at me, looking only mildly amused.

"Get out of my face, Fred," she said in good humour.

I laughed, and did as she said, heading out into the cool air of the corridor.

The hallways were dark, as the sky outside had changed from a bright blue to a dark indigo. I wondered if the others were still out at practice, or if they had called it quits.

I decided against going back out to the Quidditch pitch. Even if they were out there, I wasn't much in the mood to watch Ron make an idiot out of himself. The Slytherins' chant of _Gryffindor are losers_ was already stuck in my head. I wasn't a fan of having it ringing in my ears for the entire night. It was bad enough that I was humming it to myself as I strolled along the stone corridor with my broom over my shoulder.

Despite the chant, however, my mind wasn't anywhere near being focussed on Gryffindor pride.

Predictably, my mind had once again wandered to Juliet.

I was growing quite annoyed with myself, actually. I was constantly finding it difficult to focus on anything around me, because Juliet was continuously occupying my thoughts. Too many times George had kicked me hard in the shins to refocus my attention on the real world. I was sure everyone else was just as annoyed with it as well.

Juliet was well aware of how I felt about her. Surprisingly, it didn't make me feel much better about the situation. I thought having her know would be a relief…but that wasn't the case at all. Instead of feeling a weight off of my shoulders, I felt myself growing anxious and nervous every time I was around her.

Waiting for something to happen proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated.

Lee and George had strung up a bet, trying to determine when Juliet would decide to make a move. It made me feel stupid to know they were placing a wager on our relationship, especially because there was nothing I could do about it.

I would gladly be the one to ask her to be with me—right here and now—but I knew I couldn't. She needed time to figure things out for herself…to sort out her thoughts. I had screwed up enough in the past. I didn't want to screw it up again.

This time the ball was completely in her court.

I just had to deal with it.

When I made it to the common room, I knew immediately that Quidditch practice hadn't continued. Harry was chatting with Hermione in the corner. They both wore glum expressions, and Ron was nowhere to be found. There was no doubt in my mind Harry was describing the awful practice to Hermione. I only hoped we wouldn't have a repeat occurrence.

I felt myself frowning at the thought of our first Quidditch match. The entire Gryffindor house was going to be embarrassed. Despite the fact that we had only had one practice, I was certain our team wouldn't be prepared to play. It put a lot more pressure on Harry. He would have to catch the Snitch as fast as possible to prevent Ron blowing our chances.

I almost felt bad for placing the blame on him—especially prematurely…but then I remembered how bad he was.

_Sigh_.

The common room was nearly empty aside from Harry and Hermione, but my eye was immediately caught as I spotted a familiar auburn head situated on the sofa by the fire.

"How's Katie?" Juliet asked, craning her neck to look at me as I came scrambling in through the portrait door.

"She's alright," I told her, ignoring the all-too familiar twist in my stomach I got when I looked at her. Merlin, when had I turned into such a _girl_?! "George is bringing her back as soon as Pomfrey's done with her."

She nodded thoughtfully, and I flopped down on the sofa next to her. I was still in my Quidditch robes, but aside from that I didn't feel like I had been at practice at all. We had been there for so short a time, that none of us had managed to get a real work-out out of it. It was quite pathetic really.

"D'you reckon Ron'll get any better at Keeping?" Juliet asked, as if reading my thoughts.

I threw my broomstick down on the floor in front of us.

"He'd better," I replied with a sigh, running my hands through my dishevelled hair. I didn't want to think about what would happen if Ron didn't improve in the Quidditch department. We wouldn't stand a chance against any of the other teams.

I could feel Juliet's gaze on me, and I turned to eye her thoughtfully for a moment. I quirked my eyebrow at her questioningly.

"What's up?" I asked, sensing there was something she wanted to talk about aside from Quidditch.

Her eyes snapped away from mine quickly, leaving me highly suspicious.

Something wasn't right with her.

"It was nice of you and George not to say anything during practice," she said, trying too hard to sound casual.

She didn't fool me, but I played along.

"Yeah, well," I shrugged, "with the lousy Slytherins running their mouths, we can't very well take the mickey out of him, too."

She nodded and slumped down in her seat.

I frowned.

"How are you holding up?" I asked, ignoring the impulse I had to pull her to me. I knew if I did it, it would be my undoing. And at this point, I wasn't sure she was ready for that.

She shook her head solemnly.

"Not great, to be perfectly honest."

I cleared my throat uncomfortably. I was lousy at the whole comforting thing. As much as I wanted to make her feel better, I wasn't sure how to go about doing it without upsetting her. I was well aware of the fact that things were a little strained between us. The fact that there were feelings there was no secret to either of us. It made regular interactions a little difficult.

So, I stayed quiet, waiting for her to open up to me, no matter how strenuous it was. I hated leaving things up to her. It felt weird for me, not being the leader of the situation. I'll tell you this: the waiting game is the worst game I've ever played.

She sighed again.

"I got a letter from my mum today."

I was taken aback, and my eyes widened in shock.

"You did?" I asked, letting surprise colour my voice.

She let out a short, humourless laugh.

"Yeah. Quite heartfelt, too," she said darkly.

"What did it say?" I asked. I was confused. I would have thought a letter from Juliet's mum would be a good thing. It had been ages since she'd last spoken with her. It was beginning to take its toll on her.

She cleared her throat.

"She said she's sorry for what she said…that she doesn't believe I would lie about Cedric."

"Well that's good," I said optimistically, still unsure why she sounded so bitter about it.

"That's not all," she continued. "Her and my dad are separating."

My eyes widened in surprise and I eyed her warily. Juliet refused to look me in the eye.

"Are you sure?" I asked, again feeling stupid. Obviously if her mother wrote it in a letter then she would be fairly certain.

She nodded, but still wouldn't look at me. I almost reached out to turn her face toward me, but I restrained myself.

"Are you okay?" I asked tentatively, immediately becoming uncomfortable.

She shrugged.

"She claims it'll be temporary," she said. "Told me they'll work it out in time."

"Maybe they will," I said optimistically.

She shrugged again. She didn't look hopeful. Before I managed to say anything else, though, she spoke again.

"She also thinks it'd be for the best if I quit seeing you and George."

I pursed my lips and frowned deeply. A thousand things ran through my head at once:

_What the bloody hell is she thinking?_

_Who does she think she is? _

_I'd like to slip __**her **__a Blood Blisterpod._

But I held my tongue. I was certain none of my thoughts about Juliet's mother would make her feel any better about the situation. Although her mother's line of thinking wasn't altogether surprising, it was still unsettling. I didn't want Juliet to even consider leaving George and me.

"Dare I ask why?" I said, trying to hide my shock.

She sighed and ran a hand through her long, dark hair, messing it up.

"You're a bad influence…you're going to get me into trouble with the Ministry…the list goes on," she said.

I was quiet—feeling very anxious—so she kept going.

"She says I can believe Harry's story without going against Fudge, and that I'm making a mistake standing up against the Ministry. She thinks it's dangerous," the frown on her face deepened. "Reckons you and George are too apt to speak your minds—she doesn't want your loud mouths getting me into trouble."

I was silent for a long moment, afraid to speak up. Juliet was so tense lately. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. The whole feud with her mother wasn't making things any easier, and she rarely ever talked to me or George about how she was feeling. If Juliet's mother wanted her to stay away from us, it was hard to say whether she'd go along with it or not. If it helped relieve some of her pain perhaps she would consider it.

"Do you reckon you'll listen to her?" I asked carefully.

She exhaled, blowing stray strands of hair out of her face.

"Bloody hell," she said.

I frowned, eyeing her with worry. I waited for her to say something more, but she didn't.

Had she heard me?

"Do you?" I asked, feeling my voice quake a little with fear. Had anyone else been around, I would have been embarrassed to admit I felt scared. But this was _Juliet_ we were talking about. If she decided to stay away from me, there was no way I'd manage.

I cast a wary look around the room. Hermione and Harry were still lingering in the corner, but neither of them was paying attention. The room was otherwise empty. I hoped it stayed that way—especially if this ended badly. I didn't need anyone to be breathing down my neck.

"My mother is trying to look out for me," she said.

She had closed her eyes and the expression on her face was one of pain. Her head was leaning back against the sofa.

My mouth dropped open a little. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought my eyes had bulged out of their sockets. My heartbeat had sped up, and I tried to find my tongue to say something to her.

Was she serious? I hadn't actually expected she would take her mother's advice. She needed me just as much as I needed her…didn't she?

"She's mad at my dad for putting ideas in my head," she said, lifting her head again and rolling her eyes. "And she wants me to stay away from the two of you because she's afraid I'm going to get myself hurt."

I frowned deeply, pursing my lips in thought. She still hadn't made her thoughts clear. _Was_ she going to take her mother's advice? Merlin, if there was one thing I hated about Juliet, it was the fact that she was so bloody hard to read. She should know by now that I'm no good with this kind of thing. She needed to help me out a bit and let me know what she was thinking.

I cleared my throat, hoping I wouldn't regret my next words.

"You didn't answer my question," I said carefully.

She turned to me suddenly with a look of surprise on her face.

"No," she said quickly, looking at me as though she was just realizing I was there.

I quirked my eyebrow at her.

"No what?"

"No, I'm not going to listen to her," she said. She sounded strangely defiant.

I felt the air come flying back out of my lungs. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath. A laugh escaped my lips, and I threw my head back momentarily, feeling intensely relieved.

"Good," I said. "Because everything your mother said is absolute rubbish…no offence."

I sent her a lopsided grin, and she smirked back at me. My heartbeat began to slow back down to a normal pace. The atmosphere in the room was still tense, but I was no longer feeling smothered.

"I know," she agreed. "She can't honestly expect Dad and I to sit back like nothing is going on."

I nodded in response, feeling the tension ebb away from me. It seemed I was on edge a lot with Juliet nowadays. The energy between us was so strong that it felt like one wrong move would cause everything to breakdown. I didn't want that to happen.

"And you and George," she continued, shaking her head in disbelief, "she honestly expects me to stop seeing you?"

"Like I said, rubbish," I responded, eyeing her in good humour.

The smirk on my face fell a little bit as I stared at her. There was something not quite right with her today. Of course, it could just be due to the letter she received from her mother. That would clearly upset her on some level…but I had a feeling there was more to it than that. All day she had seemed a little off—like she was fighting with herself.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked her, my voice filled with concern.

She stared down at her hands, and I watched her curiously. I had never found it altogether difficult to understand Juliet. She and I generally knew things about each other without having to say anything. But with everything going on, I had a suspicion there was a lot going on with her that she wasn't telling me. I sincerely hoped that would change soon. I have never been able to stand being distanced from her in any way.

I opened my mouth to ask if something was wrong, but she cut me off again.

"No," she said.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up straighter in my seat. I was worried, and felt suddenly very useless. What was with me and comforting people? I watched in embarrassment as my hands fluttered uselessly around her, hoping to help. They fell once more to my sides, and instead I waited for her to speak.

Merlin, I was bad at this.

As I waited, she laughed, which confused me even further. I thought she had been upset?

Why was she always so cryptic?

"You," she said.

My eyebrows knitted together, and I eyed her in confusion, momentarily forgetting what we had been talking about.

Maybe that could be a new invention for the shop—some sort of sweet that helps you understand women. I bet that would be a huge seller.

I shook the idea from my mind and tried to refocus.

"What…me what?" I asked.

"_You_ are what's wrong," she told me, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair in frustration.

I frowned and felt my heart start to sink.

_Uh oh…_

"And I think it's about time I get over myself and say what I should have said two years ago."

_Wait…what?!_

My eyes widened in shock, and my breathing hitched. I could feel my heart start to race, and I tried to calm myself, thinking perhaps I was jumping to unreasonable conclusions.

She couldn't possibly…

"So, I'm just going to come out and say it, because enough things have gone wrong in my life…and I know I can change it," she said.

She took a deep breath and stared me straight in the eye, looking at me properly for the first time all night.

I held my breath, hoping…

"I like you," she said simply, and I felt myself freeze. I don't know what kind of tactic that is—freezing in place, but I felt like moving might scare her off, or make her change her mind. Makes absolutely no sense, I know.

"I fancy you, and I have since fifth year," she continued, paying no attention to me and the fact that I had stopped breathing. "I should have said something ages ago, but I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. I know now that it was stupid, because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the moment I realized how I felt. I was stupid, and I was scared…and I'm sorry."

My mouth was hanging ever-so-slightly open, and my heart was swelling. For a moment I felt like screaming out in delight, but I settled instead on a grin. Suddenly all of my worries about Juliet's well-being and the problems with her mother seemed insignificant. Perhaps I was being selfish, but what she was saying to me now trumped everything else that was going on.

"And I know you've been waiting for me to make the first move…because my life has been so horribly scrambled these past few months," she continued, having failed to notice that I was now sitting on top of the world. "So now I've done it. I fancy you. And I no longer have to feel guilty about never vocalizing it."

She closed her eyes and threw her hands up into the air as if to toss her problems away.

"It's in your hands now," she said with relief. "Because I'm done."

I stared at her in wild disbelief as I let her words sink in. Was she serious? Was she actually putting it all out into the open like that? Was she really willing to truly be with me?

The thought seemed impossible.

"Have I fallen asleep?"

Her eyes snapped open, and her gaze met mine.

"What?" she asked.

"Is this a dream?" I questioned. "Because it certainly doesn't feel like real life," I snickered. "It's not like us to have everything out in the open…I'm sure this can't be real."

I sent her a lopsided smile, feeling my muscles relax as I teased her.

She grinned back at me, then reached over and playfully pinched my arm.

"Ow!" I objected loudly, rubbing my skin gingerly.

"Believe it now?" She asked, smirking mischievously as a red mark began to appear on my pinched skin.

She gave me a smug grin, and I stared at her in awed disbelief.

"Come here," I demanded, holding my hand out for her to take. I was feeling much bolder about touching her now. Maybe she wouldn't run away, and all would be well.

She took my hand, and I pulled her over to my side. I draped my arm casually across her shoulders and played with the ends of her hair.

"So it's in my hands now, is it?" I asked with a lazy smile on my face.

She eyed me suspiciously.

"That's what I said," she agreed.

"So if I were to just sit here like you had said nothing at all…" I said mischievously, "you'd just pretend like nothing was different?"

She pursed her lips in a frown.

"Not funny, Fred."

"No, seriously," I said with a grin, twirling her auburn hair in my fingers, "if you leave things in my hands…I could theoretically act like nothing happened. And then…when you least expected it—"

She rolled her eyes at me, and cut me off again, this time by promptly pressing her lips to mine. My heart leapt idiotically in my chest as she kissed me firmly, pulling away only moments after. When she leaned back there was a smirk tugging at the ends of her lips.

"All right, Fred?" She teased, watching in amusement as I fumbled trying to unscramble my thoughts.

I grinned widely at her, suddenly finding my tongue.

I tugged her toward me, holding both sides of her face in my hands firmly. She looked up at me, her brown eyes dancing with newfound happiness that made my heart swell in my chest.

I knew I had to do this right, this time. After all of the messed up things that had occurred between us…I wasn't going to screw it up again like the ponce I had grown to be. As I stared at her, all traces of the usual idiotic, teasing Fred Weasley were gone. I looked down at her with pure seriousness.

"I am not letting you get away from me this time," I said firmly, my eyes locking with hers.

She stared up at me for another moment, her eyes searching mine for sincerity. She must have found it, because moments later her face lit up with a smile that made my heart leap into my throat.

"Good," she said simply.

I grinned.

_Good._

-------

**A/N:** Wow. Do **not** expect another ridiculously fast update like this again. I just got on a roll with these last few chapters. I can tell you right now that the next one will not be up as quickly. I just didn't have it in me to make you guys wait for this one.

So now it's time to pay me back by leaving me more of your kind words! They've kept me smiling, so thank you!


	9. Partners

**A/N:** I apologize deeply for the lack of updates, but I've started work full time now, and I really don't have the time to write very much anymore. I've been doing my best, and I do intend to keep writing as much as possible. I'll continue to update as often as I can manage, I just can't guarantee it will be in regular intervals.

I have a hard time filling in the gaps with this story. I have a basic timeline—there are certain events that I am positive I am going to include, and chapters that are already half-written for later on. The problem is filling in the stuff in-between what I am already sure about. So it can get a little difficult. I hope you can understand.

Of course, as long as people are reading I will continue to write.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- CHAPTER EIGHT ---**

_Partners_

_Juliet Christie_

Fred Weasley.

Juliet Christie.

Fred Weasley _and_ Juliet Christie.

Fred and Juliet.

When the bloody hell did it become that simple?

It seems the relationship ultimately did come down to being my decision. Even more shocking…I had done something about it.

So it was official. Fred and I were publicly being referred to as a _couple_. It felt kind of bizarre, to be perfectly frank.

I was actually surprised at how each one of my friends managed to remain calm and keep the mocking down to a minimum when they found out. I had expected at least a few jokes at my expense—especially from George and Lee—but all of them were keeping pretty tight-lipped about the situation. Although, I couldn't deny they all seemed much brighter around me lately. I think they reckoned this was a definite step forward for me. I think they wanted to be sure not to jinx it.

…I had to admit, I was feeling pretty good about it, too.

Things had grown undeniably awkward between Fred and me over the last few days. It wasn't a bad awkward, by any means, but more an uncertain awkward. Neither of us knew exactly how we were supposed to act around each other as a couple. We had never been anything more than best mates (although there were periods where we teetered on the edge of being something more), and we kept fumbling over ourselves, trying to fit into a groove that worked for us perfectly.

I was a little irked that the transition wasn't as flawless as I had hoped…but I suppose nothing really works out the way it does in romantic novels. Pity, because everything would be so much easier if that's the way the world operated.

To make a long, tediously boring, story short…I was comfortable admitting to myself that I was actually feeling _happy_ for once. Sure, my life was still a jumbled mess because of Cedric, my mother, and the ever-growing tension in the school (and the wizarding world in general), but because of Fred…things were just a little bit brighter. And in my world, that little bit went a long way.

And trust me, I definitely needed it…because the world wasn't too friendly at the moment.

Professor Umbridge had somehow managed to extend her ranking to High Inquisitor of the school. Stupid toad. Basically, she invented a position within the castle that gave her powers that ordinary teachers didn't have. Unfortunately for her (and very fortunate for the rest of us), Dumbledore was still the reigning headmaster, and that meant that ultimately he was still in control of Hogwarts. I only hoped it would stay that way.

It seemed Dolores Umbridge was beginning to irritate other members of the student body as well…

Hermione had approached the group of us one night after Quidditch practice to suggest some sort of student Defence Against the Dark Arts study group. The name wasn't to be taken literally. What she was actually talking about was learning proper defensive spells from someone who was willing to teach us. She mentioned that Harry was interested in teaching us some legitimate lessons in defensive magic. I was immediately intrigued, and so were the others. Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Katie and myself all agreed to meet with them on Saturday—Hogsmeade weekend.

It was a chilly October day when we set out for Hogsmeade. In fact, it was dreadfully cold outside. We had all bundled ourselves tightly to ensure we didn't freeze. Lee, Fred, George and I were all going together. Katie and Angelina were going to meet up with us before we headed for the Hog's Head. It seemed Angelina was doing a good job at mending the broken friendship between the lot of us. Katie seemed just as willing as I was to leave the past behind. With Alicia currently on the outskirts, no one was really adamant on straining our relationships any further than was necessary.

Katie was feeling a little down. She had been writing back and forth to Ethan and was supposed to meet up with him at Hogsmeade. Unfortunately for her, an owl had arrived in the morning letting her know he wasn't going to make it. Something to do with work. Katie wasn't impressed.

Thus, Angelina had volunteered to cheer her up—mostly so I didn't have to. She really was trying to make things up to me, it seemed.

Hey, I wasn't going to argue.

When the three of us made it down to the entrance hall, the boys were waiting there—impatiently, as always. The looks on George and Lee's faces were ones of exasperation. Fred, on the other hand, wore a brilliant smile that had me smirking and rushing forward.

"Come on now, we'd better get a move on," Lee was saying. "It's only going to get windier out there."

Katie and Angelina immediately said their goodbyes, and departed before the rest of us. They wanted to get some girly shopping out of the way before we had to meet the others at the Hog's Head.

"Well don't you look adorable," Fred pointed out, grinning at me as I joined their group. He tugged on the strings of my knit hat to illustrate his point.

I bit my lip in an attempt to stifle the giddiness that arose within me at his comment.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Weasley," I teased.

"Good thing I'm exactly where I want to be, then," Fred muttered, bending low so only I could hear him. I grinned.

"We'd better hurry if we've got to meet the others," George said, nodding toward the door.

The rest of us agreed, and Fred reached out and took my hand in his. It was a simple gesture, but it shocked me a little nonetheless. My breathing hitched a bit, and I jerked my head reflexively to stare up at him.

As though sensing my momentary distraction, he looked down at me at the same time. A wide grin was plastered on his face. I found his smile contagious. Immediately a bright smile lit up my face as well, and I squeezed Fred's hand tighter.

He tugged me toward him effortlessly, stooping to catch my lips in a chaste kiss. I found myself grinning like an absolute moron.

"Could you _please_ cut it out," George said huffily.

I rolled my eyes to myself. I knew it was going to be near impossible getting lost in any sort of moment with Fred. Every time we got the chance, George and Lee were never far behind.

Fred smirked almost evilly at his brother and squeezed my hand again.

"I would have thought you'd be in a better mood," he said. "You did win your stupid bet, after all."

"That's right," I said suddenly, "George _did_ win his bet. Doesn't that mean you owe me some of your winnings? I thought that was part of the deal."

"You don't get anything if there's going to be more of those public displays of affection," he said dismissively.

"Ahh, well," Fred said with a shrug.

"I guess I can do without a few extra Galleons," I said, winking at Fred.

"Me too," Fred agreed.

George rolled his eyes.

"Oh, _please_."

Lee simply laughed.

-------

Oddly enough, Hogsmeade wasn't as full of its usual excitement and bustle. Students were running around with big smiles on their faces, sure, but I couldn't help but feel like there was a certain tension to the atmosphere of the outside world. It had been so long since I had been anywhere that wasn't the castle or Headquarters. Maybe I was just imagining things…but there _definitely_ seemed to be a bit of wariness looming overhead.

The boys and I made one stop, and one stop only—to Zonko's Joke Shop, of course. Nothing had changed there. Fred, George, and Lee couldn't get enough of Zonko's—even despite the fact that they were well on their way to creating their very own joke shop. I swear they must have purchased every product available from there already, but that didn't stop them from ogling some of the more expensive items, and trying out a few of their old favourites.

"Why is it we continue to come here?" I asked, voicing my thoughts.

"Why not?" George asked. "This place is brilliant."

"Where do you think we get our inspiration?" Fred pointed out.

"I know that," I said. "But haven't you already learned all you can from this place?"

"They haven't come out with a new product in ages," Lee agreed, eyeing a sign that read _New and Improved Exploding Underwear_. "How can something be both _new_ and _improved_?" he mused.

"No," George said simply, ignoring Lee's comment. "As you know, we're hoping to be getting our own shop sooner rather than later, and we need all the help we can get with ideas on how to set it up." He cast his eyes around the store. "What do you think, Fred, should we take a sketch of the place's layout?"

I shook my head.

"No," I disagreed. "Your shop shouldn't be set up like this one."

The boys turned to me curiously.

"No?" Fred asked.

I pointed to the cash register situated by the window of the store.

"That should be in the middle of the store—where you can see everyone and everyone can see you. Zonko's isn't making good use of their front window. There should be a display case out front."

They turned to look, and nodded in agreement.

"And the shelves—you could have them higher than that—maybe built in mismatched shapes and sizes. Give it a sort of—_chaos and excitement _feel," I said.

The boys stared around at the shop thoughtfully.

"And you'd definitely need a colour scheme," I continued with a shrug. "I think _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ just screams fluorescents. Don't you think?"

Fred turned and smirked at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"It sounds like you've been giving this some serious thought," he said.

I shook my head.

"Nah, not at all," I disagreed. "It's just good sense. I've always known Zonko's was missing something—_personality_. You two definitely have that. I reckon you could tear this place to shreds."

"We don't condone violence," George said, grinning evilly. "We'll just call it _friendly competition_."

"Hold on a minute," Fred said suddenly, "I've just thought up a brilliant idea."

George, Lee and I looked at him expectantly.

"So far, George and I have been dealing with our own marketing and advertising schemes," he said, looking to George for confirmation. George nodded. "But that's bound to start getting difficult once we really get our start. We're going to need loads of help." He paused and looked at me meaningfully. "I think _you_ should help us."

I quirked my eyebrow at him.

"That's your brilliant idea?" I asked sceptically. "That's hardly an ingenious plan. I've been helping you since day one. I assumed it would _always _be that way."

Fred clapped me on the shoulder.

"I'm not talking about regular old assistance," he said. "I'm suggesting that you be _part_ of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Like a partner."

He looked back over at George again to gain his approval.

George grinned.

"George and I have done a pretty good job at getting everything started so far, but we're going to need someone to get us on our feet," he continued. "Someone with a good eye for design—George and I are fair at it, but Mum's always saying a woman's touch is the best."

Fred's eyes danced with excitement, and he paused, looking at me expectantly. I bit down on my lip and frowned, understanding dawning on me.

"Uhhh…" I said stupidly.

"What?" Fred asked. "You don't think it's a good idea?" His smile faltered a little, but he turned it into a teasing grin. "We could always hire someone to help us out, but I think it'd work out better if it was someone we already got on well with."

Lee smirked. "And we already know Fred gets on well with you."

George snorted. Fred's grin broadened again.

I shook my head uncertainly.

"I'm not sure I'd be good at that," I said honestly, frowning at the thought.

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked.

"I just don't think it's my thing," I said, crinkling my nose up.

"Rubbish," George said.

"It is rubbish. Lee?" Fred asked.

"Utter rubbish," Lee agreed with a shrug. "You do know what you're doing when it comes to that sort of thing."

"How on _earth_ do you reckon I know what I'm doing?" I asked incredulously. "I've never done anything of the sort before!"

"You've got a knack for it," Fred answered.

"You're being incredibly vague," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"You decorated your bedroom," George said. "We've seen that—haven't we?"

I snorted.

"Yeah," I said sarcastically, "because that qualifies me."

"And you're a decent artist, too," Fred agreed. "I've seen your notes. You're always messing around with drawings."

I rolled my eyes.

"Hardly the same."

"Still," Fred persisted. "We're not asking you to make all of the decisions for us. I'm just saying, we could use a hand in that area. Three heads are better than one."

"And once we get our shop, we're going to need someone to give us the right _personality_," George mimicked. His eyes had lit up now too.

"Where do I fit in to all of this?" Lee asked, sounding mildly offended that he wasn't included.

"We'll always need a stagehand," George suggested. "Someone to use in demonstrations."

"No thank you," Lee said, sounding just a tad miffed. "I'll be fine on my own, thanks."

George grinned.

"Fred's only asking because he knows Jules hasn't got any plans for her career," he explained, winking at me. "We all know you're destined to become a professional blabber-mouth. The last place you'll want to be is co-owning a joke shop."

Lee conceded.

"I'm not co-owning anything," I said. "Whether or not I do what you're suggesting, the store will always be yours."

Fred waved his hands as if the matter were trivial.

"Doesn't matter," he said dismissively. "It was just an idea."

"A good idea," George corrected.

I pursed my lips. I had never really given much thought to what I was going to do with my future. The truth is, I didn't really have any idea what I _wanted _to do with my life. I had always put it off for later—for a time when the matter was more pressing. It hadn't occurred to me that that time was coming _now. _That was a little scary.

But working with Fred and George? _That _didn't sound scary. Not at all. In fact, it sounded like fun.

"Just think about it," Fred said with a grin, slipping his arm around my shoulders. "If it's a yes, we'd be happy to have you on board."

"Okay," I agreed, nodding. "I'll give it some thought."

"Good," Fred said, sounding satisfied.

He pulled me toward him and planted a kiss on my forehead.

I smiled up at him. I would have to add it to my list of things to think about.

-------

Fred, George, Lee and I were the last of the rather sizeable group to make our way into the Hog's Head. Frankly, I was surprised at how many people had showed up. With all of the rumours flying around Hogwarts, I would have been shocked to see three or four individuals who thought Harry credible enough to teach a defence lesson.

It seemed there were quite a few who were on his side—or at least were willing to give him a fighting chance at defending his position. I had a feeling many of the students wanted to hear his side of the story more than they wanted to learn defensive spells.

The Hog's Head was an utterly disgusting place. I was actually surprised that Hermione had opted to have the meeting here instead of someplace—any place—else. But I suppose we weren't likely to be overheard in the dank old bar. The room was completely empty aside from Harry, Hermione and Ron. The only other lingerers were two dark, hooded figures hunched over in the back corner. We definitely weren't at risk of being heard by any other students.

"Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?" Hermione was asking when Fred led us into the dusty old bar. She, Ron, and Harry were standing awkwardly at the head of the room, obviously awaiting the group's arrival.

One glance at Harry told me he was flabbergasted. I found that surprising. Hermione had made it sound as though this had been Harry's idea. The look on his face told me otherwise. I wondered idly how much Hermione had told him as Fred released my hand and headed for the bar. The man standing there looked positively gobsmacked as he cleaned a filthy glass with an equally filthy dishrag, staring around in bewilderment at all of us.

"Hi," Fred said to the man, doing a quick head-count, "could we have…twenty-six Butterbeers, please?"

The old bloke eyed Fred with a look mixed between outrage and annoyance—as if Fred had been interrupting something hugely important. I concealed a chuckle. I would have thought he'd be thankful to have a few guests in his bar. I doubted he got much traffic.

It took the man several minutes to retrieve enough dusty bottles of Butterbeer to satisfy everyone, but soon enough the twins were dishing them out to everyone in the room.

"Cheers," Fred said as he handed them out. "Cough up, everyone. I haven't got enough gold for all of these…"

Chattering picked up as everyone dug deep into their pockets to fish out coins for Fred. I tried to pass him my share, but he stopped me, winking.

"Yours is on me, love," he said.

I rolled my eyes at his cheesy attempt at chivalry, but complied, unable to stop myself from smiling at him. I had a feeling he took pride in making the blush creep onto my cheeks.

"There you lot are!"

I turned to see Angelina and Katie pushing their way through the bodies surrounding us. They were both flushed from the cold, but grinning. Katie looked substantially happier than she had when we had left the castle. I was glad to see the day wasn't a total loss, despite Ethan being unable to meet up with her.

The girls both handed Fred a few coins for their drinks and he paid the bartender. The chatter in the room only increased and Hermione had to raise her voice over the talking in order to make herself heard.

"Umm, okay—er," she said awkwardly. "Could everyone er—gather around? We're going to get started."

Everyone took their seats in twos and threes. People were wearing looks ranging from excitement to curiosity, or in the case of Luna Lovegood, pure dazed wonder. A couple of students even looked angry to be there…in particular a Hufflepuff boy I recognized from Quidditch.

Fred, Lee, George, Katie, Angelina and I took our seats together near Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were facing us, waiting rather patiently. Fred very deliberately moved his chair close to mine and placed his arm across the back of my seat, toying with the ends of my hair. I had a feeling he enjoyed flaunting our couple status to onlookers. The thought made me smirk a little at his antics.

It wasn't until everyone had pulled up a chair that the chatter died down, and all attention turned toward a rather nervous-looking Harry.

Harry, however, wasn't the first to speak. It was Hermione who took on the lead.

"Er," she said, her voice unusually high out of nerves. "Well—er—hi."

The attention in the room shifted to Hermione, and everyone eyed her expectantly.

"Well…erm…well, you know why you're here. Erm…well, Harry here had the idea—" she stopped herself, having received a rather dirty look from Harry at her words. "I mean, I had the idea—that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts—and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us—because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts—"

"Hear, here," one of the boys in the back said heartily. Hermione suddenly looked more confident.

"—Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

There was a pause while Hermione surveyed Harry for a reaction before she continued.

"Let's hope it turns out better than when we tried to take matters into our own hands," Katie muttered under her breath. I let out a chortle in agreement. No one wanted to be dealt one of Umbridge's torture detentions. Stupid cow.

"And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells—"

"You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" Michael Corner—Ginny's boyfriend—said a little defiantly.

"Of course I do," Hermione answered quickly. "But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because…because…" she breathed in deeply, as if preparing herself for the rest of the sentence. "Because Lord Voldemort is back."

There was a general hiccup in the atmosphere as nearly everyone in the room twitched. Fred's arm nearly fell off the back of my chair, and I took a moment to grin evilly at his nervous reaction. He rolled his eyes at me, prodding me in the back sharply, a playful grin on his handsome face.

Neville Longbottom had let out a particularly cowardly little yelp that had George and Lee chuckling.

"Well…that's the plan, anyway," Hermione said, continuing on as if no one had reacted. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to—"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?"

I turned around to see where the aggressive voice was coming from. It was the angry looking blonde Hufflepuff bloke I had recognized.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it—" Hermione started.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes _him,_" the blonde boy said, nodding at Harry.

My jaw immediately locked in anger, and I could sense Fred and George stiffen a little. It was Ron who first jumped into defensive mode, though.

"Who are _you_?" Ron said rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," the bloke replied, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," Hermione said, intervening swiftly and calmly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about—"

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry interrupted.

Immediately the atmosphere in the room intensified. It was suddenly very clear that most everyone wanted to hear Harry's story first-hand. They weren't necessarily interested in Defence Against the Dark Arts at all. I frowned a little, feeling angry on Harry's behalf. I suppose this sort of thing should have been predicted, though.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" Harry repeated, staring pointedly at Zacharius Smith. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Everyone in the room was silent. I had never seen a group of people stare so intently at someone before. Harry was surprisingly collected.

"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts," Zacharius said dismissively, angering me further. "He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered. I think we'd all like to know—"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said angrily.

I could feel my nails beginning to dig into the palms of my hands from clenching my fists so hard. I hadn't realized I was biting down on my lower lip until Fred leaned over to mutter in my ear.

"If your lip starts to bleed, I'm not kissing it better," he joked, trying to soothe me.

"I'm sure I could find someone else to," I teased, feeling momentarily better. I really didn't want to hear about Cedric, and I allowed Fred to momentarily distract me with his horrifically lame—although, strangely endearing—flirting.

"I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right?" My attention returned to the front of the room as I watched as Harry's eyes darted momentarily to meet mine. I nodded my thanks to him. I had a feeling I was the only person in the room who knew exactly what had happened that day. No one else needed to know, I was sure of it. "So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

Harry glanced angrily back at Hermione as everyone waited to see if anyone got up to leave. No one did, so Hermione once again spoke up.

"So," she said, sounding nervous once again. I relaxed, feeling less tense now that the Cedric talk was out of the way. "So…like I was saying…if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to—"

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?"

The question was directed at Harry, and came from a girl with a long plait down her back. I didn't recognize her, but knew from the scarf she wore that she was from Ravenclaw house.

A murmur of interest flowed through the group at the question.

"Yeah," Harry answered, sounding a little defensive still.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er—you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" Harry asked.

"She's my auntie," the girl answered with a broad smile. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So—is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Blimey, Harry!" Lee said from the seat to my right. He sounded immensely impressed. And honestly, so was I. I didn't know of any other student who could produce a Patronus. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," Fred said, grinning widely at Harry. I surveyed him with mild surprise. I hadn't realized he knew. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," Harry mumbled, causing a few people to laugh.

"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" someone else demanded. I kept my eyes trained on Harry, studying his reaction. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year…"

"Er—yeah, I did, yeah," Harry answered. He sounded almost embarrassed, and he began to flush up at the neck as the room filled with sounds of astonishment.

"And in our first year," Neville said, "he saved that Philological Stone—"

"Philosopher's," Hermione corrected.

"Yes, that—from You-Know-Who," Neville finished, sounding a tad awe-struck.

"And that's not to mention all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year—getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromanutla and things," Cho Chang pointed out.

All at once everyone was muttering to themselves in agreement about how wonderful Harry Potter was. I couldn't help but laugh a little. It was a wonder the boy's head wasn't as big as a planet.

"Look," Harry said, quieting everyone down, "I…I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but…I had a lot of help with all that stuff…"

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," Michael Corner pointed out. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying…"

"Yeah, well—" Harry said.

"And nobody helped you get rid of those Dementors this summer," Susan Bones added.

"No," Harry agreed, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is—"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" Zacharius Smith asked. I was really beginning to dislike the boy.

"Here's an idea," Ron said loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

I felt unexpected pride at Ron's words. I think I rather enjoyed seeing him speak up rather than flushing in embarrassment like he always did during Quidditch.

"Well we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," Zacharius said.

"That's not what he said," Fred snapped angrily.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" George threatened, tugging a lethal-looking metal prong from one of his bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," Fred said. I stifled a laugh.

Zacharius fell silent immediately, watching Fred and George with suspicion in his eyes.

"Yes, well," Hermione said quickly, "moving on…the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of agreement through the room, and Hermione looked satisfied.

"Right," she said happily. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week—"

"Hang on," Angelina interrupted from behind me, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," Cho agreed, "nor with ours."

"Not ours," Zacharius added.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," Hermione said impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters—"

"Well said!" Ernie Macmillan said heartily. Several people turned their heads to look at him. "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!"

He looked around the room expectantly, as if waiting for someone to disagree with him. Fred and George rolled their eyes simultaneously. I chuckled.

"I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period," he went on. "Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells—"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts," Hermione interrupted, "is that she's got some…some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilise us against the Ministry."

Everyone was a little stunned by this revelation. Fred, George, Lee, Katie, and I had already formed that general sort of conclusion. We knew Umbridge suspected Dumbledore was some sort of power-hungry fanatical freak show. But she thought he would use us to take down the Minister of Magic? Preposterous.

"Well, that makes sense," Luna Lovegood said dreamily. "After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" Harry said as everyone shot Luna looks of exasperation.

"Yes, he's got an army of Heliopaths," Luna replied in a tone of pure seriousness.

"No, he hasn't," Hermione snapped.

"Yes, he has," Luna disagreed.

"What are Heliopaths?" Neville asked blankly.

"They're spirits of fire," Luna replied. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of—"

"They don't exist, Neville," Hermione said.

"Oh, yes, they do!" Luna said, sounding angry. I was certain she had lost it. Everyone's heads swivelled back and forth between Hermione and Luna, watching with amusement.

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" Hermione snapped, getting angry.

"There are plenty of eye-witness accounts. Just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you—"

"_Hem, hem_."

Several people—myself included—stared around in alarm at the sound of Professor Umbridge's voice only to find it was Ginny doing a rather brilliant impersonation of her. There was a laugh of relief, and Ginny spoke.

"Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have defence lessons?"

"Yes," Hermione said, collecting herself at once. "Yes, we were, you're right, Ginny."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," Lee said.

"As long as—" Angelina started.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," Hermione said. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet…"

"The library?" Katie suggested after a few moments of empty silence.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," Harry said.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" Dean Thomas said.

"Yeah," Ron said, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practising for the Triwizard."

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," Hermione said when no one could come up with any better ideas. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

Everyone nodded in general agreement as Hermione started rummaging in her bag. She pulled out a quill and some parchment, then stared round at all of us.

"I—I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think…" she paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

Hermione looked highly uncomfortable as she clutched the parchment in front of her. Fred was the first to reach for it, cheerfully signing the page before sliding it over to me. I scrawled my name down easily beneath his, and then passed it on to Lee, and then to George.

Others in the room looked much less enthusiastic about writing their names down.

"Er…" Zacharius stalled, refusing to touch the parchment that George was attempting to pass to him. "Well…I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

One glance at Ernie told me he wasn't too keen on having his name on the page, either.

"I—well, we are _prefects_," Ernie pointed out. "And if this list was found…well, I mean to say…you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out—"

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I—yes," Ernie admitted, sounding a little defeated. "Yes, I do believe that, it's just—"

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" Hermione asked.

"No. No, of course not," he said, sounding a little more convinced. "I—yes, of course I'll sign."

Not one person after that objected to writing their name down. Not even Zacharius, although he was the last to take the list.

Once the meeting had officially ended, Fred tugged me up with him, preparing to leave. Cheerfully, he, George, Lee, Katie, Angelina and I left together. None of us realized just how significant the event of signing that piece of parchment would turn out to be.

We left the Hog's Head feeling united.


	10. Dumbledore's Army

**A/N:** So, quite a while ago I was doodling—just messing around, and I drew out the characters from this story. I ended up posting it on DeviantArt. If anyone's interested you can look up my profile on the site (AbbyKlick). Unfortunately my penname had already been used by someone on the site, so I used another one. Just go to my gallery (there's only three pictures that are related to this story) and click on the _Reckless Abandon Series_ section. They're really just rough cartoonish doodles. But I posted them just for fun anyway :P I'll also post the link to my DeviantART on my profile page :D

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- CHAPTER NINE ---**

_Dumbledore's Army_

_Juliet Christie_

Our heads were absolutely full of ambition and confidence for the remainder of the weekend. The prospect of going against Umbridge and taking matters into our own hands really had the whole lot of us excited. Harry, in particular, was walking around with a newfound sense of authority and an air of defiance. Hermione warned him that he best keep his head down if he didn't want to draw attention to himself. That seemed pretty much impossible. Harry Potter drew more attention than a herd of rampaging hippogriffs. Now that he was walking around feeling superior to Umbridge, he was definitely at risk of raising suspicion.

Even so, that didn't stop everyone—Hermione included—for feeling a bit self-righteous and empowered.

That is, until _this_ appeared on the notice board in the Gryffindor common room on Monday morning:

_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

_All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded._

_An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students._

_Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge)._

_No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. _

_Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

Having met in the common room, Fred, George, and me noticed the post at once and gaped at it in horror. As soon as the three of us had taken it all in, we made straight for the Great Hall without waiting for Lee, Angelina and Katie to stumble down the stairs. On the way there we met up with Neville, Dean and Ginny—all of whom had read and were equally disturbed by the notice.

"What the bloody hell is she playing at?" Dean said sounding flabbergasted.

"She thinks she can stop us?" Ginny said with a defiant edge in her voice. I smirked at how much she reminded me of Fred and George at times.

"We'd better talk to Harry," I suggested. "Maybe he'll have an idea of what to do."

As soon as we had made it to the Great Hall we made a beeline for the Gryffindor table where Hermione, Ron and Harry were already sitting down to breakfast. It was immediately obvious that the statement had appeared in the common rooms of every house, as students were bustling about nervously whispering to each other throughout the massive room.

"Did you see it?" George asked as soon as we reached the Gryffindor table and were within earshot of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"D'you reckon she knows?" Dean asked anxiously.

"What are we going to do?" Ginny groaned angrily.

Our voices were all low as we huddled around the three of them. We glanced around nervously to ensure no teachers were near, and looked expectantly at Harry.

"We're going to do it anyway, of course," Harry muttered.

"Knew you'd say that," George said, beaming brilliantly at Harry and thumping him on the arm.

"The prefects as well?" Fred asked, sending a challenging look at Hermione and Ron.

"Of course," Hermione replied easily.

Fred smirked almost maniacally, enjoying the idea of Hermione breaking the rules, I'm certain.

"Here come Ernie and Hannah Abbott," Ron said, glancing over his shoulder as the lot of us sat down at the table. "_And_ those Ravenclaw blokes and Smith…and no one looks very spotty."

I shared a confused look with Fred and George.

"Spotty?" I asked.

"Never mind spots," Hermione said, sounding alarmed. "The idiots can't come over here now, it'll look really suspicious—sit down!" she mouthed furiously at Ernie and Hannah, gesturing wildly with her hands for them to stay at the Hufflepuff table. "Later!" she mouthed. "We'll—talk—to—you—_later_!"

"I'll tell Michael," Ginny said impatiently, getting up from her seat. "The fool, honestly…"

"We're getting unwanted attention from our local cow," I said, noticing Umbridge's beady stare. "Don't look," I added hastily as both Fred and George moved to gaze in her direction.

"We'll see you later," George said, slapping Harry on the back before the three of us moved to our regular spot at the Gryffindor table. There was no need to hang about and get ourselves into even more trouble than we already were.

Obviously Umbridge had somehow managed to catch wind of our little gathering. She was surely going to be keeping a very close watch on us now that her suspicions had been raised…again.

"That bird is going to seriously regret messing around with us," George grumbled, chancing a look up at the front table.

"You're not seriously thinking of pulling a fast-one on her?" I asked, my eyes widening in alarm. "Have you forgotten what she did to Fred?"

To emphasize my point I grabbed hold of Fred's wrist and pushed his hand toward George. Fred snatched it away from my grip forcefully and instead placed it on my thigh underneath the table.

"It wasn't so bad," he said stubbornly.

"Yeah," George agreed. "And we all know I'm the tougher twin. I can handle anything she throws at Fred and then some!"

"I was fine," Fred said, frowning at me. "Just because you overreacted…"

"Excuse me for worrying about you," I said, shoving Fred's hand off of my leg and digging into my breakfast. "And as much as I'd love to hear what you have in mind for the old hag, I think it'd be for the best if we all just lay low for a while."

Fred grumbled in response, and slung his arm around my shoulders good-naturedly.

"You're a bit of a grump this morning," he said, poking me in the side of the face. "I'd have thought plotting against ol' Dolores would put you in a better mood."

"Maybe later," I said, distracted by the sight of Lee, Katie and Angelina heading toward us. "Ange doesn't look too happy."

The twins turned to look in the direction I was indicating, and immediately spotted the others rushing to the bench opposite us. As they slumped down in their seats across from us, my eye was caught by the sight of Alicia entering the Great Hall alongside two Ravenclaw girls I had never known her to get along with. I frowned, but turned away almost immediately as Angelina started speaking.

"Can you believe this?" she said, sounding outraged and horrified. "No student organizations? Is she mad?!"

"Relax, Ange," I reasoned as she, Katie and Lee took a seat across from us. "We'll just have to be more careful."

"Yeah," Fred agreed, locking his arm around my neck and pointing in Harry's direction. "Harry's already agreed we're going to go through with it regardless."

"It's not just about that," Angelina said, shaking her head. She bent low over the table, and the rest of us leaned in to hear her while trying to remain inconspicuous.

"What are you on about, then?" Lee asked, casting a wary look up to the Professor's table to ensure Umbridge's attention was elsewhere.

"I'm talking about Quidditch," Angelina said, her eyes wide with meaning. "She's counting the Quidditch teams as student organizations!"

"You can't be serious?" I asked, astonished.

Angelina nodded her head vigorously, her eyes so wide they looked as though they might pop out of her head. "I got a notice this morning from the _High Inquisitor_," she emphasized with distaste. "Said I should be aware that the Gryffindor Quidditch team would not be able to reform without her permission, and I should seek her for a meeting."

Katie's eyes were wide with surprise, and Fred and George were sporting identical looks of disgust.

"What does she reckon we'll do?" Fred asked.

"Come up with some sort of anti-Ministry tactic leading you to launch a military attack on your broomsticks?" Lee suggested.

"She's barmy," I said, infuriated.

"And now our team has been indefinitely disbanded!" Angelina cried, looking hopeless.

"Ange, it'll be fine," Katie soothed. "You'll just meet with her—like the notice said—and she'll have to let us reform. It's not like she can stop us playing Quidditch."

"Dumbledore would never allow it," I agreed.

"What if he doesn't have a choice?" Angelina continued to fret. "She's got the entire Ministry of Magic behind her."

"If the Ministry of Magic is that concerned about a silly little Quidditch team, then they're in serious need of some new leadership," Fred pointed out.

"That may be so," Angelina conceded, "but it doesn't seem like anyone is really thinking straight over there, does it? I can't see Umbridge being reasonable about this at all."

"There's no way she'll disband all four teams," George said.

"And if she lets one team through, she's got to let us all play," I agreed. "It's _Quidditch_ for heaven's sake!"

"Ange," Katie said, seeing as Angelina didn't look any less worried by our logic, "just go meet with Umbridge like she wants, and if she gives you a hard time go to McGonagall. It's not like she can turn down a bloody Quidditch team."

Our reassurances didn't help calm Angelina's nerves much—especially after she heard Draco Malfoy bragging about the Slytherin Quidditch team being reinstated immediately. The way he told it, they were only allowed to play because his father was on the in with the Ministry. I had my suspicions that the real reason behind their immediate reformation was the fact that every person on the Slytherin team openly despised everyone and everything to do with Harry Potter.

And, because Umbridge was quite obviously on the anti-Potter side of the fence, the Slytherins were in high favour.

Unfortunately, our team wasn't so lucky.

When Angelina met up with the rest of us that night after her meeting with Umbridge, it was to announce with a glum expression that we would not be holding our scheduled Quidditch practices until further notice.

"She just said she needed time to consider," she said grouchily.

"Consider what?" Ron asked angrily. "She's given the Slytherins permission, why not us?"

Everyone's good moods had certainly dwindled almost into non-existence. Harry and Ron tried feebly to work at a Potions assignment they had received, and Fred and George took it upon themselves to try and make the rest of us smile.

They had perfected their newest attempt at a Skiving Snackbox, and jumped up eagerly to demonstrate to Katie, Angelina and myself. Lee had been instructed to assist. Of course, within moments an entire crowd had formed and were eagerly eyeing the twins.

"Behold!" George was announcing, "The most effective way to ditch class—"

"Guaranteed to produce top-notch results!" Fred continued.

The group of us watched as Fred took a bite out of the orange end of a chew and proceeded to vomit spectacularly. Obviously, the twins had been prepared for it, as they had placed a bucket precisely in the right location directly in front of Fred.

Lee, who looked thoroughly unimpressed with his position as 'vomit vanisher', was only marginally less disgusted than I was.

Yep, nothing says sexy like your boyfriend projectile-vomiting for the entire Gryffindor population to see. Although, I couldn't deny that he never once winced in discomfort. I suppose that earns him some sort of recognition.

As Fred continued to puke his guts out, he would force the purple end of the candy down his throat and the retching would immediately cease.

The other students seemed to be much more impressed by the display than any of us were. It was quite clear that they were excellent salesmen, and their products certainly were ingenious…but Umbridge had managed to drain me of any scrape of exuberance I had possessed at the beginning of the day. I was no longer in the right state of mind to enjoy the antics of Fred and George Weasley. That was a fact that Dolores Umbridge would probably be delighted to hear.

Once Fred had finished his demonstration, George shoved him aside and tried to impress the next batch of watchers. With each display students would bustle about and line up to buy the chews from the twins.

Hermione, who was seated alongside Ron and Harry, was positively seething. I think it only gave Fred and George more satisfaction—they both knew there wasn't a single thing Hermione could do to stop them. They weren't breaking any Hogwarts rules by eating the things themselves. And there was nothing stating that students couldn't purchase the chews from them, either.

It was well over an hour before the crowd around the twins dispersed. All the while Katie, Angelina, and I had taken to coming up with humorous—albeit, ridiculous—situations in which Umbridge would find herself at our mercy.

Once the boys had dealt with the last of their eager customers, they rejoined us—claiming seats on the floor by our feet—and began ostentatiously counting out their earnings.

"Puking Pastilles!" Fred was saying. "Brilliant work, George."

"Same to you, Fred," George beamed as Fred leaned his back against my legs obnoxiously.

"Lee, you've earned yourself five percent for all those well-rehearsed Vanishing Spells," George said, clapping him on the back.

"Make it four," Fred objected. "Lee's got no salesmanship—I didn't see him smile once."

Lee scowled, and Fred and George grinned cheekily, and then both of them shifted uncomfortably.

"These boils make sitting on the floor a right pain in the arse—so to speak," Fred said, rubbing irritably against my legs so much that I kneed him in the back of the head to get him to stop.

"Ouch!" he protested.

"What boils?" Katie inquired, and the twins frowned darkly.

"Fever Fudge," George said with a scowl.

"We haven't worked out all the kinks yet—" Fred continued.

"Probably for the best that Quidditch is scuppered. I can't imagine sitting on a broom would be much fun," George pointed out.

The girls and I exchanged disgusted looks.

"Best keep away from Fred's nether-regions for the time being, Jules," Lee said with an evil smirk.

Fred had to dodge out of the way as I executed an effective kick to Lee's stomach. He groaned in pain and slumped to the floor.

"Serves you right for talking about my nether-regions, mate," Fred grinned at him. "You haven't earned the right."

"Has Juliet?" George asked, only to dive away moments later to avoid the hex I sent his way.

"Not yet," Fred said with a teasing wink.

I scowled at him.

"If you're not careful, Weasley, your nether-regions are going to be suffering a fate much worse than Fever Fudge-induced boils," I threatened, waving my wand conspiratorially.

"Can we stop talking about Fred's nether-regions?" Katie said, looking thoroughly disgusted.

Fred only smirked, batting his eyelashes at me in a falsely sweet attempt at appearing cute.

Moron.

…_My_ moron.

-------

The next day, Angelina announced—with a bright smile and a much happier persona—that she had talked to McGonagall, and the Quidditch team was officially back in order. That was generally very good news—although Fred and George were now looking extremely unenthused at returning to a broomstick in their current…er—_condition_.

The good news only continued when, only days later, Harry announced that he had found a place to hold our Defence meetings.

"Seventh floor opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and the trolls," Ron had said. "Eight o'clock."

"A corridor is a bit conspicuous, dear brother," George said with a maniacal glint in his eye. "Are you sure you know what you're talking about?"

"Just make sure you're there, you big git," Ron answered.

We all headed down to meet the others promptly at eight. What we found there was both extraordinary and brilliant.

"What is this place?" Dean Thomas asked, staring around looking impressed.

"The room of Requirement," Hermione informed as people began to file through the door. I was a little taken aback. I had never known such a room existed within the castle.

"Well," Harry said once everyone had settled into one of the many cushions (which had apparently come prepared with the room). "This is the place we've found for practice sessions, and you've—er—obviously found it okay."

"It's fantastic!" Cho Chang said, and there was a general murmur of agreement.

"It's bizarre," Fred said, frowning around at his surroundings. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then."

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" Dean asked, pointing at a few objects at the back of the room.

"Dark detectors," Harry answered. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled…"

Everyone looked on in curiosity. I'm sure each and every person was anxious to see what we would be learning today. What I found more interesting than the prospect of learning Defensive Magic was the reaction that everyone seemed to have at the idea. I'd never seen Lee look so enthusiastic about school in his life. And Fred and George had never behaved as respectfully to their actual teachers as they were with Harry. It was quite eerie, actually.

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and—er—" he stopped, as Hermione had raised her hand high into the air. "What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," she said, glancing around the room for approval.

"Harry's leader," Cho said at once, staring at Hermione as if she were mad.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," Hermione said. "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So—everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

There wasn't a single hand raised within the room. Even Zacharius Smith—the smarmy git—managed to agree, albeit half-heartedly.

"Er—right, thanks," Harry said, his face burning with embarrassment. "And—_what_, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," she said, her hand still upright and stiff in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina asked, her eyes glinting with hope.

"Umbridge is an Ugly Hag Assembly?" I put in.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" Fred suggested.

Hermione frowned pointedly at Fred. "I was thinking more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defence Association?" Cho suggested. "The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the DA's good," Ginny agreed. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

Everyone laughed appreciatively.

"Well, that and factual evidence," I said. "They seem to prefer fabricating rubbish."

"Hear, hear," Lee commended.

"Right. All in favour of DA?" Hermione said—with a rather bossy air about her. Everyone raised their hands again. "That's a majority—motion passed!"

She stuck the piece of parchment that we had all signed up on the wall with the heading _DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY_. I could feel the atmosphere filling with excitement.

"Right," Harry said, pressing on. Everyone watched him anxiously. "Shall we get practising then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful—"

"Oh, _please_," Zacharius Smith said with a roll of his eyes. "I don't think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," Harry said quietly. "It saved my life in June."

Zacharius didn't seem to have a reply for that. He gaped stupidly up at Harry and everyone else remained silent.

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry told him.

He didn't move, and neither did anyone else in the room.

"Okay," Harry said firmly. "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practise."

"Ange, you'll be my partner, right?" Katie asked immediately, turning to Angelina. She looked as though she would rather eat a flobberworm than get stuck with one of the boys. I, on the other hand, was up for the challenge.

Practising _Expelliarmus_ actually proved to be quite entertaining. I was partnered up with George, as Fred vehemently refused to practice spells against me. I'm near positive he simply didn't want to chance me being better at him. Thus, he was partnered with Lee. George, on the other hand, was quite happy to practice spellwork against me, and it quickly turned into a competition.

"That's fourteen to eleven, Jules," George said cheekily. "And I let you have that last one."

"Guess I know who I'll be standing behind if we ever come face-to-face with any Death Eaters," I joked.

"Hey, George," Fred called, and the two of us turned to see him grinning at us mischievously. "Watch this."

Fred wordlessly flicked his wand toward the back of the room—in the direction of Zacharius Smith, and we watched as his wand went flying out of his hand and across the room. Lee doubled over with laughter as the Hufflepuff bloke searched around for the culprit. His partner—Anthony Goldstein—looked just as confused. He hadn't even opened his mouth to disarm Smith yet.

George grinned, and as soon as Zacharius had retrieved his wand, George muttered _Expelliarmus_ and it went flying back out of his hand again.

The group of us snickered, taking it in turns to disarm the nasty little twit, until Harry came round—clearly noticing our lapse of attention.

"Sorry Harry," George said with a wide grin that completely contradicted the _sorry_ in his statement. "Couldn't resist."

I had a feeling Harry didn't mind in the slightest.

Time seemed to fly by as the lot of us got back to work disarming each other. One minute I had made Lee's wand fly straight out of his hand to smack George in the back of the head, and the next George was racing around with my wand held high in the air as I chased after him yelling for him to give it back.

It wasn't until I had pinned George to the ground—with help from a very effective Confundus Charm by Lee—that Harry blew a whistle for everyone to stop with the lesson. I barely heard it over George's disgruntled grumbles.

"I still won," he muttered. "You're a great bloody cheat."

"Which is why I refuse to be paired with her under any circumstances," Fred said cheekily. "It's bad enough being her Potions partner. She can't tell her cauldron from her desk."

I grinned at Fred in good humour as Harry dismissed us, saying we would meet again the following Wednesday where we would discuss future meetings.

We left the Room of Requirement in small groups so as to avoid getting caught out of our Houses after curfew. Harry gave us the go-ahead, watching with the Marauder's Map to ensure none of the teachers—or Filch—were lurking nearby.

Fred purposely held me back, sectioned off from the rest of our group, so we could have some alone time heading back to Gryffindor tower.

"You know, Harry will be able to see that we're not back in the tower," I pointed out, as Fred showed absolutely no interest in making it back to our common room straight away. In fact, he seemed much keener on snogging me in a hidden corridor behind a dusty old tapestry.

"Well the sod should keep his nose out of our business, I reckon," he answered, smirking at me as he pushed me against the cold stone wall.

"We'll get him into loads of trouble if we're caught out here and have to explain ourselves," I warned.

Fred kissed me, ignoring my concerns. I'm almost ashamed to admit that I wasn't so worried about anything once his lips found mine.

Since Fred and I had been together, he was much more easy-going with me. No longer did either of us have to tip-toe around. There was no more suppression of our feelings, and although some things were still awkward between us—being boyfriend and girlfriend was still generally foreign between Fred and me—there was no doubt that we were comfortable with each other.

Fred moaned into my mouth, and I laughed breathily as I tangled my hands in his hair. I had forgotten what a bloody good kisser he was. Of course, I'd never tell him he was, or he'd never let me hear the end of it.

"I haven't had any alone time with you," he said.

I understood. Between classes, Quidditch, the twins _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_, and the newfound Dumbledore's Army, there was very little time that wasn't spent surrounded by other people. A five minute snog session seemed like a very good idea to me.

"Well we'll have to do this more often, then," I said, biting down on his bottom lip playfully.

"Be careful," he warned. "I may just take you up on that."

By the time we made it back through the Fat Lady portrait, the others were readying themselves for bed. George, Lee, Katie, and Angelina all rolled their eyes at us as we stumbled into the common room, late, but with grins on our faces.

"I thought you weren't in any condition to use your—er—man-parts," Lee said with a wicked smirk on his face.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Jordan," Fred scolded, brushing off the accusation with ease.

"Well, you two weren't the only ones hanging back for a snog-session," George pointed out, nodding his head in the direction of the portrait hole.

The rest of us turned around to see Harry walking in, looking flushed and a little dazed. The twins grinned wickedly.

"We'll see you girls in the morning," Fred told us as he and George made a beeline for Harry. "Oi, Potter!"

"Ah, poor Harry," I said, shaking my head. "Reckon it's time for bed?"

The girls readily agreed, and the three of us headed up to our dormitory for some much needed sleep. All of the meddling behind the High Inquisitor's back really managed to drain you.

We were laughing as we climbed the girls staircase, but stopped almost immediately as we entered our shared dormitory. Alicia was already there, looking just as cold and unapproachable as she had been since school commenced.

She was curled up in bed, reading some rubbish romance novel (the kind she had been fond of since first year). The three of us tensed up a bit, and were careful not to speak a word about the DA or Harry. We knew we had to be careful with Alicia. We couldn't afford to take the risk that she would overhear something and share it with her father. If her dad were to find out he could get everyone into trouble with the Ministry. It would be horrible if one slip of the tongue got Mr. Weasley—or anyone else—fired.

Alicia glanced up from her novel as we entered the room. None of us were really intent on speaking to her, so we headed for our prospective beds without a word of greeting. It was a ritual that had become painfully common in the past weeks.

Alicia cleared her throat as I pulled my pyjamas on. Angelina shot a look towards me, but none of us acknowledged her.

"Don't think I don't know the lot of you are up to something," Alicia said, breaking the silence.

The tension immediately increased in the room. It was almost palpable. Katie glared from her spot in the room.

"Excuse me?" I asked, turning to look at her as I pulled back the covers on my bed.

"I'm not stupid," she answered. "I know there's something going on."

I shot her an annoyed look.

"What, exactly, do you reckon we're _up to_, then?" Katie asked with obvious resentment in her voice.

"The whole lot of you—you're planning something," she said shortly. "With Potter and Granger. You were all gone tonight."

"What's it to you if we weren't around?" Katie asked. "Or are you saying you missed us?" she joked darkly.

"You lot should watch who you get mixed up with, is all," she said coldly.

"_You lot_," I scoffed. "You mean, your _friends_?"

Alicia buried her face in her book again.

"None of you are friends," she muttered.

Katie scoffed.

"Are you kidding?" I asked incredulously.

"Alicia…?" Angelina said.

"I'd prefer not to talk to people who are going against the Ministry…going against my father. Me," she answered.

"Alicia, how can you even say that?" Katie said. "We've been friends since _first year_."

"Well, that was before any of this happened," she said.

"So what?" I asked. "Because of some moronic belief your father has about Dumbledore and Harry, you can't see reason either?" I questioned irritably.

"Don't you speak about my father like that!" Alicia snapped. "And it's all of _you_ who can't see reason."

I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling and Katie shook her head in disbelief.

"Whatever, Leesh," Katie said, throwing back her covers and crawling into bed.

I curled up in my own bed and sent Alicia a cold look.

"When you come to your senses and decide to stop treating your friends like rubbish, we'll be here."

I yanked the curtain of my bed shut forcefully, nearly ripping it down.

It seemed Dumbledore's Army was up against a heavy force.


	11. Slytherin Songs and Unwelcome Flashbacks

**A/N:** You guys are most definitely true Harry Potter fans. It kind of makes me laugh at how quickly you all are to point out my discrepancies from the book. Yes, I know Harry and Cho didn't actually kiss until Christmas. I'll admit, at 1:00 in the morning when I was writing the chapter it slipped my mind, but after re-reading my writing it's come to my attention that I never _actually _said that the two of them snogged. So I've easily worked it out so it's accurate for the rest of the story. So, all of you die-hard canon-loving readers don't have to worry, because that minor detail will remain canon :P

Good on all of you, though. You are all frighteningly quick with remembering the details. I'm usually pretty good, I'll admit, but I have made my share in errors. Of course, I hope you'll all forgive me because it's quite difficult to try and recall every detail from each of the seven books.

And so long as you're forgiving me, you can forgive me for the frighteningly long I made you sit through for this chapter. I know it's not the first time I've had to put this story on the backburner, but I want you all to know I fully intend to finish the story. I do not ever want to leave it hanging. So although I may disappear sometimes, I will be back again as soon as possible!

Thank you for all of the reviews! It's so nice to hear from new people. And it's great to keep getting feedback from those of you who have been sticking with this story for ages now!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**--- CHAPTER TEN ---**

_Slytherin Songs and Unwelcome Flashbacks_

_Juliet Christie_

"So, did you wrestle it out of Harry?" I asked, only mildly interested. "Who was it he was grinning so madly about last night?"

"You're one to talk," Lee said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm surprised the two of you made it back to the tower at all last night."

I ignored him while Fred looked smug. I made a point of jabbing him in the side to get him to stop.

"He wouldn't say," George said with a thoughtful frown, "but I've got it on good authority it's the Chang girl that's got him fussed."

"Cho Chang?" I asked.

"Ginny reckons he fancies her," George answered. "Don't know how she figured that one out, but she has a knack for that sort of thing."

"He flat out denied snogging anyone," Fred informed. "Don't think he was lying, either…but I'd wager he snags her before the year is out."

"No way," Lee disagreed. "She looks like she'd put up more of a fight than that."

"You're forgetting he's Harry Potter," Fred pointed out. "Some girls will do anything for a bit of fame."

"That's why you're with Fred, right, Jules?" George joked.

"Oh _yeah_," I said sarcastically. "It's a blast being known as the girlfriend of the bloke who projectile vomits for a few measly sickles."

Fred flicked me in the temple with his forefinger. I winced and scowled at him.

"Two Galleons says Potter snogs Chang by year's end," he said as I elbowed him in the gut.

"You're on," Lee agreed heartily.

It was a wonder those boys hadn't already wagered their souls away with all of the gambling they did.

-------

As the weeks went by it became difficult to focus on much other than school work. The professors were really hitting us hard with the homework—trying to cram as much knowledge into our heads as possible, I'm sure.

It was really starting to hit me that this would be my final year at Hogwarts. It felt as though the last six years had simply flown by, and it brought back many memories of what had happened throughout the years…

Harry Potter and You-Know-Who…the break in of Sirius Black…Ginny getting taken into the Chamber of Secrets…winning the Quidditch Cup…Cedric's death…

This castle held a lot of memories. Leaving all of them behind seemed terrifying.

Aside from school I was also juggling Quidditch and DA meetings. This was growing more and more difficult. It was even harder to keep Umbridge from getting suspicious. She was constantly on the lookout for anyone breaking one of her many decrees. We had to be careful not to let anything slip in front of her.

Although it was difficult to schedule meetings for the DA, we had been managing to meet about once a week. After our fourth meeting, Hermione introduced an ingenious way to send messages out to the members of Dumbledore's Army. She handed everyone a fake Galleon, explaining that the numerals around the edges would change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. She had charmed them to get hot when the date changed to ensure we were all alerted.

Harry was in charge of the meeting times, naturally. When he changed the time on his coin, everyone else's changed to mimic his. Hermione's handiwork certainly was impressive. The fake Galleons ensure no one had to run around chatting up members of other houses during meal times. That was an especially risky thing to do with Umbridge watching our every move.

Our DA meetings were put on hold as the first Quidditch match of the season grew nearer. This was due to Angelina's wishes. She insisted on having us practice almost daily to prepare for the game against Slytherin. I had the suspicion she was trying to get Ron as prepared as possible before allowing him into a real match. I had my doubts about it doing him any good.

It seemed everyone was getting into the spirit of the game as the date grew nearer. Professor McGonagall had even refrained from dishing out homework in the week prior to the match. Apparently she had told Harry she dreaded the thought of handing the cup over to Snape (a fear equally held by the entire Gryffindor house) and told us to use the extra time to get our team ready.

Snape, on the other hand, was making things extremely difficult for Gyffindor. He was overbooking the Quidditch pitch to ensure we had minimal time to practice, and also ignored the blatant abuse the Slytherin house was putting the Gryffindors through. They were quite obviously attempting to sabotage us before the game. Their most successful attempt came when the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, jinxed me with a Hair-thickening Charm while my back was turned. My eyebrows were so bushy that Fred, George and Lee didn't stop laughing for seven hours straight. Even Katie, Ginny, and Neville Longbottom managed to have a go at me.

That was slightly depressing. Even after Madam Pomfrey put me right they were still cracking jokes.

Fortunately for me my face was put right again just in time for the game. It would have been quite the task trying to see past all of that hair while on a broomstick.

The morning of the first Quidditch match of the season was bleak. Over the course of the start of term, Ron had not managed to improve much as Keeper. He was still a nervous wreck, which didn't bode well for Gryffindor's chances of success against Slytherin.

Fred and George managed to keep a positive outlook on the match, despite the fact that they had little faith in their younger brother's abilities. In fact, they were probably the only reason why I didn't retch in horror when I made it down to breakfast that morning.

The Great Hall was filled with excited chatter when the lot of us headed downstairs. This was a usual occurrence for Quidditch. The entire school came out to cheer on the players, and students and faculty alike tended to get quite into it. The horrible part was the Slytherins. The group of them were insufferable on the best of days, but during a Quidditch match, they were downright evil. In this case, when we entered the Great Hall, every single student in the Slytherin house was sporting a silver crown-shaped badge that read "Weasley is our King".

I almost winced when I saw it.

Ron's severely lacking Keeper skills wasn't exactly a well-kept secret in Hogwarts. The Slytherin team had made a point of spreading the news of Ron's inadequacy…it seemed they had decided to promote the poor bloke's habit of dropping the Quaffle as their own personal triumph.

"Ohhh, poor Ron," I groaned, staring round at the disturbing spectacle.

Fred grimaced as he scanned the Gryffindor table for his little brother. Fortunately, he was nowhere in sight. I wondered if he had made it down to breakfast already…perhaps he hadn't even left the tower yet.

"It could be worse," George said hopefully. "At least it's only the Slytherins who are wearing them."

"Way to find the silver lining, George," I said with a frown. "I have a feeling this match is going to be pretty harsh."

"_Weasley is our King_," Lee muttered with a roll of his eyes. "Classy, that is. The only way those ugly buggers could manage to win a game is if you lot were struck blind, dumb and deaf all at once. Of course they'll prey on Ron. It's their best chance of getting ahead."

"Sad thing is they scare him stiff," I said with a shake of my head. "He really lets the smarmy letches get to him."

"Come on," George said, making a beeline for the Gryffindor table. "Let's hurry up and eat something so we can head down to the pitch."

"What are the chances Ron won't see these?" Fred asked, gesturing toward the now jeering Slytherins. They had clearly spotted us, and were making a point of throwing us the best of their stupid insults.

"Unlikely," I muttered, staring around at the abundance of badges, whilst ignoring the calls of the Slytherins. The tossers seemed to be pretty proud of themselves and their newest Gryffindor-bashing development.

"I would have thought they'd come up with something cleverer," Lee commented, sounding almost bored. "They did the badges last year. Remember? _Potter Stinks_."

"How could I forget?" I mumbled. Images of the badges in question flashed in my head…along with memories of the Triwizard Tournament…and Cedric Diggory.

I tried to clear my head. I certainly didn't need to be dwelling on those bad memories now…not with the match dwelling so close.

"I can't wait to knock the smarmy grins off of their faces," George muttered menacingly as we all claimed our seats.

"Likewise," Fred agreed.

We were met by a string of cheers and applause when we settled down at the Gryffindor table, although not everyone had arrived for breakfast yet. Angelina, Katie, Harry and Ron were not yet there, although we were a bit early. Angelina had told us to meet her down at the pitch. When I left the dormitory she was practicing some sort of yoga-ritual. I told her she was mental for getting so worked up about a game and she nearly snapped my neck. It seemed she was nearly as serious about Quidditch as Oliver had been.

That was a scary thought.

The Gryffindor students were all adorned in their usual game attire—Gryffindor scarves, hats, gloves, pins and the like—but there were some who had gone above and beyond. Luna Lovegood, although a Ravenclaw student, had created an almost life-sized lion head that she had situated on her shoulders. It was a rather shocking sight, but it certainly got the point across.

"Good luck today!" she chirped as she walked by.

The boys exchanged wide-eyed expressions with me.

"I don't think I've met a more barmy bird than that one," George said with a shake of his head.

"Her heart's in the right place, though," Lee said with a laugh.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "She may be stark-raving mad, but at least she's on our side."

When we had finished breakfast, we bade farewell to Lee—who took off to _'prepare his vocals'_ for the match—and headed down to the dressing room to change.

The sky was looking clear and the air was crisp. Weather-wise, we were looking at near perfect conditions to play Quidditch. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

The twins were feeling fairly confident, despite Ron's mediocre Keeper abilities and the constant taunts of the Slytherin house. If we focussed our efforts properly, we could easily pull out a win for Gryffindor. Harry was a superb Seeker. If he could catch the Snitch early enough, Ron wouldn't have to worry about saving many goals. And until Harry managed to catch the Snitch, Angelina, Katie and I would simply have to ensure we stayed ahead of the Slytherins in goals. It was definitely feasible.

When the others made it down to the change room Fred, George and I were already dressed and tossing a Quaffle around the room. Angelina and Katie changed quickly, and Harry and Ron showed up last…Ron looking as though he might vomit up everything he had eaten in his entire life.

The twins and I continued our little game of catch as Harry and Ron dressed silently. After several minutes of watching Ron attempt to dress himself back-to-front I dropped the Quaffle and helped him lace up his uniform. I'm sure he would have been embarrassed had he not been so terrified and sickly looking.

"Don't go vomiting on my shoes, Ron," I warned him light-heartedly. "And try not to look so terrified. You'll do fine."

I smiled encouragingly at him and squeezed his shoulder, but received only a grimace from him in return.

"Seriously, Ron, you're ready for this," I ensured him.

Okay, so, I was lying.

The babble of the growing crowd outside was growing steadily louder when Angelina stepped out of the captain's quarters. She looked anxious, but focused as she began to address us.

"Okay, I've only just found out the final line-up for Slytherin," she said, staring down at a piece of parchment. "Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with the usual gorillas, rather than anyone who can particularly fly well. They're two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don't know much about them—"

"We do," Harry and Ron said together.

"Well they don't look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from the other," Angelina said, pocketing the bit of parchment, "but then I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way onto the pitch without signposts."

"Crabbe and Goyle are in the same mould," Harry assured her.

The voices outside were definitely getting louder now and I could vaguely make out people singing. Angelina glanced around at all of us, stony-faced.

"It's time," she said, glancing down at her watch. "C'mon everyone…good luck."

We all rose, shouldering our brooms, and marched out the door in single file. I followed behind Katie with George right behind me. We were met by a roar of cheering and wailing from the crowd, and I swallowed a lump that was slowly growing in my throat. For some reason, pictures of Cedric were once again floating in and out of my head. It was unnerving. I was worried it would throw me off of my game.

When we reached the middle of the pitch the Slytherin team were already there waiting for us. The sneers on their faces were probably supposed to be intimidating. I wondered if they realized how stupid they looked. Each and every one of them was sporting a Weasley badge, and Crabbe and Goyle were swinging brand new Beaters' bats.

"Captains, shake hands," Madam Hooch instructed and Angelina and Montague reached for each other. I was near positive Montague was attempting to crush Angelina's fingers, but she didn't so much as wince. It was impressive.

"Mount your brooms…" Hooch ordered.

I glanced down the team line and caught Fred winking at me. I grinned back at him, positive I knew what he was thinking. He couldn't wait to get a good shot at the Slytherin morons who were tormenting Ron. Although he would never admit he cared, Fred had one hell of a protective streak in him.

Hooch placed the whistle in her mouth and blew and my head snapped back into game mode.

The balls were released at once, and everyone shot up toward the sky. I chanced a glance at Ron and immediately wished I hadn't. He was looking even more startled and sick than he had been on the ground.

I looked around to get my bearings and felt my stomach drop inexplicably. It took me a moment to realize what was bothering me, and even when I had it didn't make sense. Last year's Triwizard Tournament was once again flashing in my head. Scenes of Cedric battling a dragon—just as he had done on this very pitch…the memory of running through the maze in desperation…

My heart was pounding and I was already starting to sweat. Why was this happening now?

I tried desperately to focus on the present. I could hear Lee's voice over the crowd's yells and I clung to it in hopes of banishing the terrible thoughts that were once again plaguing my mind.

"And it's Johnson—Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me—"

Lee was joking. I tried to find the humour, but was so bothered by the inexplicable return of my nightmares that I couldn't.

"…and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's—ouch—been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe…"

I turned around to see Angelina fumble and drop the Quaffle upon impact. She recovered quickly, but we had already lost possession.

"…Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and—nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell…"

Katie was in my line of sight, directly in front of me. I realized only just in time that she was passing the Quaffle to me, and I just barely caught hold of it. I desperately needed to get my head in the game.

"Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Juliet Christie and Christie's away—"

I pushed myself through the chaos of the playing field, heading toward the goal. I could still hear Lee's voice over the madness, and I tried to hold onto it. Maybe if I concentrated on him I would be able to stay focused.

"…Christie dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger—close call, Juliet—and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

I hadn't realized it, but the spectators were indeed singing something. As Lee quieted to listen, it suddenly became clear over the cheering.

"_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

_He cannot block a single ring,_

_That's why Slytherins all sing:_

_Weasley is our King."_

"_Weasley was born in a bin,_

_He always let's the Quaffle in._

_Weasley will make sure we win._

_Weasley is our King."_

"—and Juliet passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted, once again drowning out the crowd. It took a minute for the lyrics to settle in, but I was certain they were having a terrible effect on Ron. He wasn't used to the Slytherin jabs and jeers like the rest of us were. Ignoring them was second nature to us now. For Ron, it was a different story entirely.

Lee continued to try to drown out the words as another surge of sickness washed over me. I could feel myself getting dizzy. The ground below me started to spin, and Cedric's face once more flashed before my eyes. I yelled out in surprise—no one could hear me over the noise of the game—and tried to regain my composure. The last thing I wanted was to fall in the middle of a match.

I didn't notice as Angelina attempted to get the Quaffle past the Slytherin Keeper, but I heard as the Slytherin song grew louder. Warrington was approaching Ron with the Quaffle.

I closed my eyes, feeling nauseous due to my spinning head, and took off in the direction of Warrington. I knew it was futile. He had already reached Ron, and by the time I had wrenched my eyes back open he had put the Quaffle straight through the centre hoop.

"Slytherin score!" Lee announced over the cheers of the Slytherins and boos from the remainder of the school. "That's ten-nil to Slytherin—bad luck, Ron."

The crowd's yells were almost deafening now.

"_WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN! HE ALWAYS LET'S THE QUAFFLE IN!"_

"—and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell heading up the pitch—"

"_WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN! WEASLEY IS OUR KING!"_

"Juliet!"

I hadn't realized I had been stationary until I heard Fred call my name. I turned in time to see him bat a Bludger away from me in the direction of Montague.

"What are you doing?!" he yelled.

I didn't answer, but turned and sped back into action. Warrington had just passed the Quaffle to Pucey, and he was headed in my direction. I hurried towards him in an attempt to cut him off. He dodged me easily, however, and continued down the pitch.

"Pucey's off past Christie, come on now, Angelina, you can take him—turns out you can't—but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean George Weasley, oh, who cares, one of them, anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell—er-drops it, too—so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captian Montague takes the Quaffle and he's off up the pitch, come on now, Gryffindor, block him!"

Montague handed the Quaffle off to Pucey, and my second attempt at blocking him failed.

"—and Pucey's dodged Juliet again and he's heading straight for the goal, stop it, Ron!"

I felt my stomach drop again at the sight of the Quaffle soaring through our goal. Ron was looking red in the face and embarrassed. Looking at him only brought my spirits lower. Thoughts of Cedric once again swarmed in my head.

Why was this happening? Was it because this is the exact place where Cedric had died? Even that didn't make much sense to me. After all, it wasn't the first time I had been back on the pitch. I had been attending practices for nearly two months and nothing like this had occurred.

My head was swimming, and I could feel myself growing short of breath. I was beginning to panic, uncertain as to why this was happening to me. The stress of the game coupled with the fear of not knowing what was going on was having a horrid effect on me.

While I was distracted, the Slytherins managed to score twice more. The team was struggling. Not only was Ron performing poorly, but I was now just as useless as he was.

"—and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for the goal, come on now, Angelina—GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle."

I was uncertain what brought my head back into the game…whether it was Gryffindor finally making it onto the scoreboard…the distant sound of Luna's ludicrous lion hat roaring on the sidelines…or the fact that Fred jabbed me in the head with his Beater's bat and started yelling at me in concern. In any case, I could feel the dreadful sensation beginning to lift and my thoughts beginning to clear.

"Juliet, what is wrong with you?!" Fred hollered. He sounded angry, but his expression told me he was worried. I wondered how long I had been zoned out. "That's the third time you've almost been knocked out by a Bludger! What are you doing?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that question. My mouth gaped open and his eyebrows scrunched into a confused line.

"Are you okay?"

I swallowed hard and gripped my broomstick tightly.

"I'm fine!" I yelled back, looping around him and heading back into the game.

The Slytherins were once again in possession, with Katie and Angelina hot on their tails. It seemed neither of them had had any time to notice my departure from the game. I felt guilty and stupid…I had been of little help for my team.

Swerving to avoid a Bludger from Goyle, I caught sight of Harry diving on the far side of the pitch. I felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. I was starting to feel normal again, and it seemed the game was already over. The first match of the season and I proved to be useless.

Harry pulled out of the dive holding the fluttering golden Snitch and the crowd roared in approval. Moments later he was struck by a Bludger and launched off of his broom. Luckily he was only a few feet off of the ground. He landed on the frozen field with a thud, and the rest of the team zoomed towards him to ensure he was alright.

I landed just as Angelina was helping him off of the ground.

"It was that thug Crabbe," Angelina said angrily, "he whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you get the Snitch—but we won, Harry, we won!"

I moved forward to congratulate Harry just as Draco Malfoy landed behind him.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said menacingly to Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper…but then he was _born in a bin_…did you like my lyrics, Potter?"

Harry ignored him, and turned toward the rest of the team who had begun to land around us. I didn't get much time to celebrate. Mere moments after Fred had landed, he grabbed hold of my elbow and jerked me backwards away from the group.

"What the bloody hell was that?" He asked incredulously. His eyes were wide in confusion and worry. Thankfully, everyone else was cheering with excitement. It seemed no one else had taken any notice of my mental absence from the game. Too bad Fred was so much more attentive when it came to my well-being.

"Nothing," I said under my breath, plastering a smile on my face as everyone began to celebrate.

"Bullocks," he said, holding onto me forcefully. He looked me in the eye sternly. "What the hell was going on with you? You looked like you were going to fall off of your broom!"

"I wasn't going to fall," I said, although the spinning feeling I had felt seemed to contradict my statement.

"You need to tell me what's going on," he said firmly. There was an edge to his voice that told me he was frightened. My behaviour had clearly scared him. It made me feel guilty, although I had no explanation for why it had occurred.

"Nothing's going on, Fred," I lied, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Thanks for saving my arse on the field."

Although I knew something bizarre had happened to me in the air, I wasn't exactly willing to bring it up to Fred. Cedric wasn't only a touchy subject for me, but talking about him stirred up a lot of frightening emotions with Fred as well. We had spent the majority of the past school year in a row, and a lot of it centred around Cedric Diggory. I had no desire to bring up the past now, especially when things between Fred and me were going so well. And I certainly didn't want to dwell on his death any longer…although I was positive it was something I was going to carry with me for the rest of my life.

"Don't be like that," he said, refusing to let go of my hand. He pulled me towards him, staring down at me intensely. "Please."

The frightened look in his eyes made me cave immediately, despite my better judgement. I couldn't say no to him now…not after everything we had been through…and definitely not when he was so worried about my well being.

"I'll tell you later," I told him truthfully. "Now's not the time." I gestured to where the rest of the team was huddled around Harry.

Fred looked around as if just realizing where we were and nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you're right. But we're going to talk later."

"I promise," I said.

He leaned forward to plant a kiss on my lips as George reached out and pulled me backwards toward the main group, away from Fred. I forced a grin and tugged Fred along with me, joining the rest of the team.

Katie and Angelina were leaping all over each other with excitement. George slapped me hard on the back. Fred—his grin once again intact—gave Katie an enthusiastic high-five. The only one who didn't seem happy with the win was Ron, who was wandering back to the change room alone, his head hanging low.

Katie gave Harry a tight hug, and Fred threw his arm around my neck, tugging me toward him so he could place a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

I nodded.

"Of course," I said. It wasn't altogether true, but we would discuss it later.

"Okay," he accepted, and smiled brightly. "And you're welcome…for saving your arse on the field, that is."

I grinned in earnest and snaked my arms around his waist as the team celebrated around us.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called over our cheering. I had been too focussed on Fred…but I now realized he was still standing around, yelling at the group of us. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly—we wanted to sing about his mother, see—"

I frowned, my eyes snapping up to see him still lingering behind Harry with an evil smirk on his face.

"—we couldn't fit in _useless loser_ either—for his father, you know—"

George was halfway through shaking Harry's hand when his shoulders tensed. Fred's arm went rigid around my neck, and his jaw clenched. They both turned slowly to look at Malfoy. I grabbed a fistful of Fred's Quidditch robes in my hand to restrain him ahead of time.

"Leave it!" Angelina yelled at once, sticking her arm out in front of Fred. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he's lost, the jumped-up little—"

"—but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells OK—"

Fred had released me from his grip, and it was taking the combined efforts of myself, Angelina, and Katie, to keep him from leaping on Malfoy. Harry had a hold of George who was glaring daggers at the vile boy.

Malfoy laughed openly and continued. "Lucky for me your little girlfriend is there to keep you off of me, eh?" he sneered at Fred. "Wouldn't want that stench anywhere near me, no matter what you people put up with. Or perhaps you can remember what _your_ mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it—"

Harry had released George, and in an instant the two of them were on top of Malfoy.

"Harry!" Angelina screeched. "HARRY! GEORGE! NO!"

Katie and I joined in yelling at the boys to stop, but had to work hard to keep Fred restrained so he wouldn't join in on pounding Malfoy to a pulp.

"Fred, stop!" I yelled, clinging to his arm as he fought against the three of us. "He's a ruddy idiot, don't!"

Fred was swearing profusely, struggling against us with a positively livid expression on his face.

"I'll KILL HIM!" Fred yelled. "JULIET, LET GO!"

It wasn't until Madam Hooch intervened that George and Harry ceased ripping Malfoy to shreds…and even then they had to be forced off of him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. She looked furious. Malfoy was bleeding from the nose and cowering in a ball on the ground. George had managed to gain himself a swollen lip, and Harry seemed to have taken a hit to the side of his face. The three of us were still holding onto Fred tightly, as he looked as though he'd tear into Malfoy if I released him, despite the fact that Madam Pomfrey was now present.

Crabbe was cackling maliciously in the background.

"I've never seen behaviour like it!" Madam Hooch yelled. "Back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! _Now!_"

George and Harry said nothing, but turned on their heels and marched angrily back up to the castle. Madam Hooch dealt with Malfoy, demanding he get up and return to the castle as well. It wasn't until he was scampering away that the three of us let our grip on Fred lessen.

The atmosphere had instantly changed. Everyone was tense and awkward, unwilling to break the silence first.

"You may return to your change room," Madam Hooch said in a stern voice, her eyes glowing with anger.

Not one of us spoke as we made our way back to the dressing room. Katie motioned for me to talk Fred down. As I made a move to do so he threw open the dressing room door, bursting through so forcefully that the wood nearly splintered and cracked.

I grimaced.

"I think I'll have a go at it later," I mumbled.

Angelina and Katie nodded in agreement.

…it was probably the worst Quidditch game I have ever experienced…and the sad part is…we _won_.


End file.
